All Of Your Tomorrows Shine
by Reddwarfer
Summary: Tezuka learns there may be life after tennis.  TezukaFuji
1. Chapter 1

Title: All of Your Tomorrows Shine Pt 1 of 8.  
Pairings: Tezuka/Echizen,Tezuka-Fuji...erm...heavy friendship-->Eventual Tezuka/Fuji.  
Rating: PG  
Summary: Tezuka learns there may be life after tennis.  
Disclaimer: The owners of PoT own Pot.  
**AN: It may say Tezuka-Echizen, but I'm the biggest Zukafuji fangirl ever, trust me, so just remember this story is about the journey, eh? Actually, this whole story is about the relationship between Tezuka and Fuji. If you want any physical stuff between Echizen and Tezuka, this story isn't for you.--This story was written before the most recent manga canon.**

Tezuka thought about calling Echizen to see what he wanted for dinner. It was late and he had just finished up with training. He didn't feel like cooking and Echizen rarely would initiate himself. He looked at the phone for a moment, before pocketing it again. He, instead, went to a nearby take-away place and picked up some noodles. Echizen didn't care what he ate, as long as there was a lot of it.

They had lived together for five years, and he was fairly used to Echizen's habits. He didn't cook or clean or read or do much of anything besides tennis. He was similar, except he did cook and clean and read as well as playing tennis. Just as he was rounding the corner to where his flat was, the cell phone rang. It was Inui. He gave his usual rambling report of the goings-on of everyone, and he listened half-heartedly. It wasn't until the end that his ears perked up at some of the news Inui had to relay.

They ate in silence, as usual, and Echizen wandered off when he was finished without so much as a word, leaving Tezuka to finish eating by himself. He didn't mind it so much. Tezuka was fond of silence, for the most part, and there was only one person's chatter that ever didn't annoy him anyhow.

Echizen was sitting in the chair, watching the match, playing with his racket so he didn't even notice when Tezuka said goodnight and went to bed early. He was tired and the phone call from Inui brought up some old memories.

Tezuka woke up early. Echizen was still asleep. He did his morning workout, made himself some breakfast, and then went to the tennis courts. Echizen joined him two hours later.

They played a few sets. He won both. After they had showered, they sat down to lunch.

"Did you see the match last night?" Echizen asked as he drank a Ponta.

"Hn."

"He didn't play well."

"Hn."

"Do you want to do something this weekend?" Echizen was on his third Ponta. Tezuka noted that Echizen drank too much of it.

"There's a pavilion we haven't gone to." He had heard from Inui that at least one former member of the team frequented the place.

Echizen nodded before grabbing another can of Ponta and leaving.

Tezuka changed and went out for his afternoon workout. He ran around the block before doing a few reps of sit-ups and push-ups.

When he was finished, he went home and showered before joining Echizen for dinner. They didn't speak beyond asking the other to pass the salt.

After they had cleaned up, Tezuka sat down and read his novel while Echizen watched a tennis match while hitting his ball on the side of his racket.

When he was sufficiently tired, Tezuka marked his place in the novel and went to get ready for bed. He showered, briefly, brushed his teeth, and went to bed.

Tezuka was at the courts again. He hadn't seen Echizen in a few days. Tezuka only noticed because when he got the weekly shipment of Ponta, there were still some left over from the last one. He decided to go to the new pavilion himself, and was not disappointed. He idly wondered where Echizen was, but he instead focused on the match in which he was engaged.

Tezuka glared across the net. He hadn't seen Fuji in a while, but had heard things about him on the professional circuit. It was exciting like nothing had been in a while. He griped his racket a little tighter when he saw the way Fuji's eyes opened, as he readied his disappearing serve.

Sweating profusely, Tezuka sat down next to Fuji on the bench after the game. He'd barely won.

"Good game, eh Tezuka?"

Tezuka allowed a small smile on his face. "Yes, best I've had in a while."

Fuji shot him with a curious look. "Doesn't Echizen play you?"

Tezuka looked at his racket. "Weekly, at least."

"Ah," Fuji said with a smirk, but said nothing more.

Tezuka looked at Fuji for a moment, noticing the healthy flush on his face before looking away.

Fuji nudged him with his shoulder, and he felt a strange warmth at the spot. "We can make this a reoccurring thing."

Looking over in faint surprise, Tezuka stared at Fuji. "Weekly?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound to eager.

"As often as you like. I've a pretty open schedule," Fuji said, eyes sparkling.

Tezuka quickly agreed. "Twice a week sound good?"

"It sounds delightful," Fuji said, resting his hand on Tezuka's arm. "I need to get going, you?"

Tezuka got to his feet and followed Fuji into the showers. If he noticed every detail of Fuji's body wet and soapy, he didn't mention it. But, his cheeks had a faint tinge as he left the locker room.

When he ate dinner that night, he didn't know why, but he didn't tell Echizen that he had run into Fuji. Instead, he ate as quickly as he could and noticed that Echizen had had five cans of Ponta during dinner.

He became increasingly focused on his upcoming matches against Fuji. Echizen hadn't bothered to meet him on the court in over a week, but he hardly had time to miss it because Fuji had always made tennis exciting. They had already played seven times. He won four, and Fuji three.

Tezuka walked into the house and found Echizen asleep on the couch. Ponta cans were scattered everywhere. While he cleaned them up, he counted fourteen. It was worrying. No one should drink that much Ponta.

Echizen hadn't woken by the time he was ready for bed, so he left him on the couch still dressed in his clothes and went to sleep by himself. Sometime late that night, he felt Echizen slide in next to him and put an arm around him.

Tezuka frowned. It was obvious what Echizen wanted. He never touched Tezuka otherwise, but he really was too exhausted to do anything. It had been six months since the last time, and he didn't think another day would hurt. He shifted away, pretending to be asleep, and waited until he heard Echizen's soft snores before going back to sleep himself.

The next morning when they sat down to breakfast, he looked over at Echizen as he opened his first can of Ponta.

"You drink a lot of Ponta."

Echizen looked over at him, shrugging, and sat down.

"You've been lax in your training."

With a disgruntled looked, Echizen took a sip of his miso soup. "Been busy."

Tezuka looked at him, silently telling him to continue.

"Found a new place to play," Echizen explained further.

"Hn." Tezuka couldn't say anything because he had done the same.

"With Monkey King." Echizen added after a moment.

Tezuka looked at him in surprise, "Atobe?"

"Yes." Echizen finished off his soup, got up, grabbed another Ponta, and left.

Shrugging, Tezuka cleared the table and called Fuji to see if he wanted to play a set with him if he had the time.

Fuji smiled serenely as they engaged in their post-match chat on the bench. They were idly discussing the amateur Japanese tennis players chances of going professional when Fuji nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

"Would you like to meet me sometime tomorrow and do something?"

Tezuka looked surprised. They didn't usually play on consecutive days. "Another match?"

Fuji gave him an amused chuckle. "No. Something not tennis related."

"Not tennis related? he asked, words feeling strange in his mouth.

Grinning, Fuji looked at him. "Yes, there are things besides tennis. Don't you and Echizen do anything not tennis related?"

He must have had a bewildered expression on his face because Fuji laughed. At him. Hard. Clutching his sides, Fuji said to him between giggles. "You've never…besides tennis…nothing…" Fuji continued to laugh, mumbling something about bedroom activities under his breath before he straightened out.

"Tezuka, join me tomorrow. I have something fun in mind." Fuji still had tears of mirth in his eyes, and Tezuka found that he couldn't refuse.

When they left, Fuji gave him a peck on the cheek, before waving and walking in the opposite direction. It was something Fuji used to do when they were in high school, and still close friends. Tezuka was at first surprised that Fuji hadn't done that the last few times they had met but, then again, they hadn't seen each other in years. Now, it was as if they had gone back in time.

He placed his hand on his cheek for a moment, realising that it was the first kiss he had had from anyone in four months.

Fuji and he were sitting down to breakfast in a diner before Fuji whisked him away to wherever it was that he was planning.

Fuji gave him a speculative look. "Tezuka, you never did tell me when you and Echizen got together. You never said anything at all. Found out from Inui."

There was something accusatory in that tone, but he ignored it. "We played tennis together a lot after I graduated from high school. He kissed me once after a match and then he showed up at my flat the next day. And it went from there."

Fuji stared at him wide-eyed. "That's possibly the most unromantic thing I've ever heard."

Tezuka scowled. "There's more to life than romance."

Smirking again, and so very clearly amused, Fuji quipped, "Yes, there's tennis and Ponta."

Less than two hours later, both Fuji and Tezuka were knee deep in a lake, fishing. He hadn't gone fishing in quite a long time, mainly because Echizen didn't care for it. Fuji and he didn't catch anything they could keep, but he had had fun. Well, until Fuji tossed aside his fishing pole, snuck up behind him, and dunked him in the water. He found himself laying aside his own pole in order to get back at Fuji, who had remained elusive until he stepped into a soft patch, and his foot got stuck in the muck. Tezuka had taken great pleasure in making sure Fuji was every bit soaked as he was.

Fuji walked next to him on the trip home. They chatted about other places they'd fished. Fish they had caught, or not, and ones that had got away. He was sure that Fuji was making up the story of catching a two-headed carp, but he didn't press him on it. Fuji seemed to be taking great delight in wildly gesticulating every story.

When they had arrived at his front door, Fuji pecked him on the cheek and bid him goodbye.

He opened his mouth to respond in kind, when he said instead, "That was a date."

Fuji looked at him, blinking, before smiling again. "Have a nice evening, Tezuka."

Tezuka wasn't sure why he had said what he had said, but he felt a little unsettled.

If Echizen noticed he was distracted at dinner, he didn't mention it.

They sat down together on the couch and watched a movie, of which he couldn't recall the name.

"Stupid movie," Echizen said after it was over.

Tezuka nodded. "Hn."

"No tennis on today," he added unnecessarily.

Tezuka shrugged.

"Play any this week?"

Nodding, Tezuka said, "Yes."

"Me too."

"Ah."

"Who won?"

"Me."

"Me too."

"Who'd you play?"

"Monkey King."

"Hm."

"You?"

"Fuji."

Echizen looked over at him then. "Fuji-senpai? I'd like a match with him."

Tezuka looked down at the floor for a moment. "Hm."

"Ask him for me?" Echizen pressed. Tezuka didn't want to, but he didn't really have a legitimate reason to refuse him.

"If I see him." Tezuka's eyes were trained on the commercial on the television as he spoke.

Echizen considered him for a moment. "I got a new racket."

Tezuka nodded. "Ah."

That was the last thing that was said before Tezuka turned off the television before he went to bed. Echizen had fallen asleep on the couch again, but at least he was back to drinking his normal amount of Ponta. It was still too much, but wasn't as bad as it had been.

Tezuka was a little shocked that Echizen was already gone when he got up in the morning. Most days, Echizen wouldn't wake before ten without heavy prodding. There was no note indicating where he had gone but, then again, there never was.

He simply got dressed and made his way to his trainer. Today they would be discussing his future in tennis. He'd enjoyed success as a professional, but it wasn't something he could hope to maintain much longer.

Two hours later, he emerged from the gym with a lot on his mind. He wanted someone else's opinion, because he was basically given two choices. In the past, when he was left to ponder things on his own, he had the tendency to be rash.

Picking up his cell, he quickly punched in Echizen's number.

_"Hello?_"  
It was Fuji. He glanced down at the number on the phone screen. He hadn't dialed Echizen's number at all.

"Fuji, it's Tezuka."

_"Ah, hello Tezuka."_

"Hm."

Fuji was silent for a moment, but so was he. _"Do you want to get coffee, Tezuka?"_

Tezuka nodded before responding so Fuji could understand. "Yes. See you soon."

Once they were seated in the café, Tezuka looked across to Fuji who was smiling as always.

"I've been given a choice," he began, seeing no need to dally in conversation, "I either retire after this season and still maintain use of my shoulder and arm like I do now. Or I can continue pushing things and have another three years professionally at the most."

Fuji didn't say anything at first, and instead sipped his tea. "What do you plan on doing when you stop playing tennis?"

Tezuka felt struck dumb. He didn't know how to say that he always imagined himself playing tennis. "I hadn't considered the possibility of not playing tennis."

Nodding, Fuji fingered the lip of his teacup. "Then, I'd say you should retire sooner than later. This way, you won't have to live without tennis."

"Is there a point if I'm not competing?"

Fuji smirked at him. "Were all your best games professional ones?"

Tezuka inclined his head to Fuji, who had obviously won that round.  
It hadn't occurred to him that in giving up tennis, he could keep it.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 of 8.

Thank you to the reviewers. Enjoy.

Fuji looked at him as if he had something he wanted to ask, but he instead swallowed the rest of his tea. "Are you busy today?"

"No," Tezuka replied. He wasn't sure when Echizen would be back, but he was gone before he woke and didn't leave a note, so he had no idea.

Smiling, Fuji grabbed his hand, tugging him to his feet. "Come with me."

He didn't say yes, but he followed Fuji as he paid for their drinks and led them away from the café to a destination unknown for the second time in two days. They walked along the streets for about twenty minutes before Fuji stopped him in his tracks. He ran quickly into a store, and came out five minutes later, with a bag, considerably more cheerful.

"Let's go!" Fuji said with a grin as he led Tezuka to the nearby bus station.

Tezuka sighed. "Where are we going?"

"Secret," Fuji said, still smiling at him. Tezuka remembered that back in school he had succumbed to that smile more often than he was proud. And, as Fuji led him to the buses, he realised that not much had changed.

Even after they got off of the bus, it took him another ten minutes before he realised where they were going. They were at the beach. The last time he had gone to the beach, it had been with Fuji during their third year of high school.

It wasn't that he minded the trip, but at least if Fuji had told him where they were going, he could have gone home to pick up his swimming trunks. They hadn't been touched in ages, but he was sure they still fit.

"Tezuka, I know what you're thinking," Fuji said as he started walking toward the changing area. "I bought everything we need." If anything should have sounded Tezuka's alarm bells, it was Fuji using that sweet tone with his equally sweet smile that screamed _up to no good_ loud and clear. Ignoring all warnings, and common sense, Tezuka simply nodded and followed Fuji.

"Here," Fuji said as he thrust a small bag into his hands, "wear this." Fuji walked away clutching his own bag and went to change himself.

When he opened the package, all he did was stare at the item in his hands. He held it up, turning it over as if it would suddenly grow and become something more, but luck had left him. Frowning, because he knew that Fuji wouldn't let him simply go home, he hesitantly took off his clothes and put it on. He took one look at himself and decided that he would just have to say no to Fuji, no matter the cost.

Tezuka refused to leave the stall. "I'm not wearing this."

Laughing, Fuji tried to peek, but Tezuka yanked a towel around his waist. "Oh, Tezuka. It's not that bad."

"It is," Tezuka argued back.

Fuji pulled the curtain open with a quick tug of his wrist. "If I recall, you don't have anything to worry about."

Tezuka felt his face heat from the weight of Fuji's stare, and it only got worse when he realised that Fuji was wearing exactly the same thing, only in a different colour. Surely there had to have been other choices besides Speedos in that little shop.

"Fuji," Tezuka said, hating how much it sounded like a plea.

Fuji simply grabbed his hand, the one holding up his towel, and led him out onto the beach. Tezuka sighed. He probably enjoyed playing tennis with Fuji so much because it was the only time he could ever win.

"Have you forgotten how to have fun, Tezuka?" Fuji asked, though he sensed something behind the jovial tone of his voice.

He looked down and watched as he toes sank a little into the sand. "I've been playing tennis."

Fuji pinned him with an unreadable stare before he reached into the bag from the store once more. He pulled out a Frisbee. "Want to play?"

With a smirk, Fuji whipped it over to him. It hurt slightly as it hit against his palms. Ah, he thought, a challenge. Tezuka backed away to give more distance before he sent it back just as hard. They played for a while until Fuji tried doing one of his counters with the disc and it ended up halfway out on the ocean. Fuji laughed but made no attempt to retrieve it. Tezuka turned to go back and get changed now that their game was over, but Fuji didn't follow him.

Sighing, Fuji sat down on the beach, beckoning him to do the same. They stretched out their legs, allowing their feet to get wet as the waves made their way over the shore. "Remember back in high school? We used to go out once a week and either fish, hike, go to the beach, unless it was too rainy, and then we'd go to movies or to the aquarium. After we'd head down to one of our favourite courts and play for a few hours."

Tezuka stared out over the water. "I recall being so exhausted that we'd crash at each other's houses and wake up early to do our homework before rushing off to practice."

Laughing, Fuji scooted closer to him. "We had fun, didn't we?"

Looking over at Fuji, Tezuka let a small smile form on his face. "You took pleasure in disrupting my schedule."

Fuji didn't look away. "If I didn't, nobody would. Plus, we were the only ones since everyone else scattered after Seigaku."

"True."

Fuji played with the sand for a few minutes, watching as it slipped through his fingers.  
"How is everything?" He heard the unasked question. _Are you happy, Tezuka?_

Tezuka looked back out on the water. "I don't know."

Smiling, forcedly, Fuji looked out on the waves, too. "Hmm."

He wasn't sure what to say, so he stayed silent. It made him uncomfortable, this particular silence, which was odd. Fuji was one of the few people with whom he rarely felt awkward.

"Can we switch our Wednesday match to Thursday, because I've an appointment with my doctor," Tezuka asked, both because he wanted to know and to disrupt the thickness that had settled around them.

Fuji glanced at him for a moment. "Sorry, not this week. I forgot to mention this, but I'm going away for a business trip for two weeks."

"Oh? You never told me what you do, aside from the occasional tennis appearance." Tezuka had been curious before, but he hated prying. Fuji would tell him when it suited him anyhow.

Fuji grinned. "You never asked. I have two jobs, actually. I'm in the middle of illustrating a book. I've been doing book illustrations off and on for years. Sometimes I use photography, other times I draw or paint. I enjoy it. I also write part-time for a magazine."

"Why do you have to go away to do the illustrations?" Tezuka questioned. He didn't see why this had to disrupt their tennis schedule that much.

Quirking his lips, Fuji looked over at him. "I'm doing my friend a favour. He needs me to do a few articles and in exchange, he's allowing me use of his cottage. It's quiet there and I need both space and relative peace while I work."

"Ah." Tezuka could easily picture Fuji doing that for a living. It had flexibility, which, he thought, was a good thing. He couldn't picture Fuji having to work on a set schedule. Something about his personality would likely rebel against it.

They say on the beach silently for the rest of the afternoon, watching the waves until the sun had set. He'd rarely taken the time to watch it, but it was almost as beautiful as the day he'd watched the sun rise with eight of his friends and teammates.

As they walked back up the beach to leave, he allowed Fuji to take at least half a roll of pictures with his camera. It wasn't so much that he told Fuji he could, it was more that he didn't say no, and Fuji saw his silence as tacit permission, which it was.

Conversation wasn't restarted as they made the trek back home. Fuji accompanied him on the walk back to his flat, kissing his cheek before he turned to leave. He was halfway up the steps when Fuji called out to him.

"I'll be at the courts on Tuesday. I've an unexpected opening in my schedule," Fuji said as he walked away without waiting for a response. A part of him was thrilled to get a chance to play against Fuji an extra day that week, but another part of him felt as if it were a good-bye gift. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and made his way inside of his flat.

When he got inside, he noticed that, once again, no one was home. Sighing, Tezuka wondered what exactly was going on with Echizen. It wasn't that he was a particularly affectionate person, neither was Echizen, but they had enjoyed a comfortable routine with each other.

Ignoring the very real chance that Echizen would once more not be coming home that evening, Tezuka set about making Echizen's favourite meal for dinner. He focused on food preparation because it forestalled any thinking about his life, and the direction in which it was headed. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the truth of what both Fuji and his trainer had told him, but the idea of not playing tennis for a living was somehow beyond his scope of comprehension. He felt foolish for not considering after. Certainly, even the best of professionals rarely play well into their thirties and forties, and those were the ones that didn't have a lingering injury.

Two minutes after he was finished cooking, Echizen walked in the front door. He looked over at Tezuka, smiled, and went to wash up for dinner. Tezuka was pleased to see him, because the house was empty more often than not due their differing schedules and Echizen's habit of leaving without warning.

Echizen sat down with a sigh. "Long week."

"You didn't call." Tezuka looked sternly across the table. It wasn't that he thought Echizen needed to ask permission, but he'd like to know whether the disappearances meant he should worry or if he should just cook for one.

Shrugging, Echizen dug into his food. "Been training."

"With Atobe." Tezuka stated with surety. He sometimes wondered why Echizen was fixated on never losing to Atobe, but they seemed to enjoy goading each other. Perhaps, Echizen would get the boost he needed to stay at the top of the Professional world. It was too easy for him to get bored and not take his opponents seriously. Perhaps, he should have Fuji play him. It was the one person Echizen was never able to beat.

Echizen leaned back, still looking at him as if pondering something. "What did you do today?"

Trying not to reveal his surprise at the unexpected inquiry, Tezuka stared at his plate before raising his head to meet Echizen's eyes. "I met with my trainer for a few hours. After that, Fuji and I went for lunch and then to the beach."

Stilling, Echizen didn't say anything for a few moments. "Ah. You were always weak to Fuji-senpai. Never could say no to him."

Allowing himself a small smile, Tezuka responded. "With you as well."

"You say no to me all the time, Captain." Echizen said with a grin as he got up from the table.

Tezuka cleaned up before he followed Echizen into the living room. He sat down on the sofa, allowing Echizen to inch close enough so their sides were touching. He changed the channel until he found a movie that they both hadn't seen, and set the remote down. For the first time in months, he fell asleep on the couch with Echizen curled up next to him.

Taking a long swig from his water bottle, Tezuka tried to cool down as he sat heavily down on the bench. Fuji had not given him an inch out on the court. It was positively thrilling. Fuji stole the bottle from him and drank a bit himself before handing it back. Rolling his eyes he stared down at the ground whilst he got back his breath.

"You are tenacious, Tezuka. Never let me win easily," Fuji complained jokingly.

Tezuka checked the strings of his racket. "You wouldn't want me to let you win."

Fuji looked over at him, and he met Fuji's stare. "Are you so sure about that, Tezuka?"

He wasn't exactly sure, but he had a feeling that Fuji wasn't talking entirely about tennis.

Just as he was about to respond, Fuji's phone began chirping. "Hello."

Tezuka didn't know who Fuji was talking to, but apparently it wasn't good news.

"She's in the hospital? Oh no. The baby came early? Oh. No. I understand. It's nothing I can't deal with. You don't mind? I won't burn it down, I promise. Thank you. Give her my best."

Sighing, Fuji hung up the phone. Tezuka could tell by the line of Fuji's mouth that he was stressed out by something.

"What's the matter?"

Fuji studied him for a minute before responding. "Well, my business trip is in jeopardy. My friend's sister had her baby a few months early so he can't come with me on the trip. I can't manage it alone and I'm on a deadline. I'm trying to think of someone who could help."

Tezuka nodded. "What exactly do you need?"

Smiling, Fuji replied, "I need someone to help me with my art."

If all Fuji needed was someone to carry equipment and bags around, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to offer. "I could help you."

Fuji looked genuinely surprised at the offer. "Really? You'd be willing to?"

"How hard could it be?" Tezuka didn't mind doing busy work. Half of his time in school was spent doing busy work for student council and paperwork for tennis club.

Getting to his feet, Fuji stretched as he stood. "We'll need to leave shortly after your appointment on Wednesday. We'll be near a lake, so pack for swimming."  
Fuji grinned at him and they both trudged the rest of the distance to the showers. As they were parting at the entrance of the pavilion, Fuji turned to him again.

"Thank you, Tezuka. This means a lot to me." Fuji smiled broadly, relief obvious in his posture and face. He reached up, kissed his cheek, before turning and walking away.

When he got upstairs, he found Echizen already there. He was drinking a Ponta, three empty cans already sat on the counter. Tezuka grimaced. He wished he could ban Ponta from the flat. He couldn't stand the taste, smell, or Echizen's addiction to it.

"I'm going to be leaving on a two week trip after my appointment on Wednesday," Tezuka said by way of greeting.

Echizen looked up in surprise. "What for?"

"Fuji needs someone to help with his work."

Snorting, Echizen got to his feet to fetch another Ponta. "What a surprise."

Tezuka looked at Echizen in confusion. "What do mean by that?"

Shaking his head, Echizen looked away. "Nothing."

"I didn't think you'd mind. With your renewed focus on training, I figured you'd be busy with Atobe."

With a short smirk of acknowledgement, Echizen nodded. "That's true enough."

Somehow, Tezuka felt that there was more to Echizen's statement than he understood. However, he didn't have the time to think about it just yet. He walked toward the bedroom and began the process of packing. He glanced in the back of his closet to his hiking boots, and found himself packing them just in case.

As he packed, Tezuka felt the stress he'd been feeling recede. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. It'd be two weeks of peace and quiet with one of the only people who knew him enough that he'd understand what he needed. Fuji was gifted with the ability to know which questions to ask, and when, and which to leave alone. If he truly needed it, and couldn't deal with the incessant teasing, Fuji would be serious with him. Still not quite sure what to do about his future, Tezuka felt that maybe this time away could clear things up for him. Not for the first time, Tezuka felt incredibly grateful to have run into Fuji when he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for your reviews.

Tezuka hadn't considered the task of lugging his bags to the doctor's when he agreed to go on the trip. He had two large suitcases and one smaller duffle bag and he wasn't sure exactly how he was going to carry them to his appointment, but he needed to figure out a way because that's where Fuji said he'd meet him.

He put the luggage down and turned to lock the front door, when he turned back he was face to face with Fuji, who was reaching down for one of his suitcases.

"Thought you might need a ride," Fuji said, greeting him with a smile. The trunk of his car was open, and his own bags were already inside.

Tezuka shut the trunk after he placed his things, and got into the front seat. "Thank you."

"Let's hope there's not too much traffic," Fuji said as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "It might take less time to walk."

Surprisingly, Fuji managed to get him there on time, pulling into the hospital parking lot with ten minutes to spare. He opened the door to get out, but stopped when he realised that the car was still idling as Fuji played with the car's audio system.

"Coming?" Tezuka asked as he reached for his coat in the backseat. Fuji looked at him curiously, before turning off the car, and stepping outside to walk with him.

It was strange having someone in the appointment with him. It had been years since Oishi hovered over him with that worried expression he tended to get after he first had injured his elbow. Echizen never went to his appointments, preferring to take out any worry he may have on any one that met him on any of his favourite street courts.

Fuji sat in the corner of the room, and picked up a magazine, pretending to not pay attention as Tezuka stripped down to his boxers after the nurse left the room. It didn't really bother him, and Fuji had seen him in less. He set down the pile of clothes in the chair next to Fuji and glanced over at the article that he was likely not even reading. Something about the way he quirked his lips as he flipped the page made the bizarre thought of never being out of shape pass through his mind.

Tezuka looked over his shoulder as he walked back to the examination table and saw Fuji change another page.

Perhaps he should add another set of squats to his workout routine. And crunches.

When the doctor came in, however, Fuji gave him his rapt attention, watching every poke and prod as he was told in no uncertain terms the state of his shoulder. It was a bit worse than what his trainer suggested. He warned that if Tezuka played at the level at which he was currently at, he'd only retain a twenty-five percent mobility afterwards, if he were lucky and the surgery he would inevitably need went well. If he retired now, he'd be able to play recreationally and maintain the mobility he had now if he took care of it.

Fuji stared at him as the doctor spoke, smile absent, and he felt as if his mind was being read. It was the only time he'd ever seen the words stated so clearly, even in the silence between them. Fuji was asking him to stop now.

He'd only ever implied that Tezuka should not do something once before, and that was in regards to his match with Atobe. The only difference was that this time, he could tell, Fuji wasn't asking so much as he was begging, and he didn't have Seigaku's flag blinding his eyes to the truth. Lowering his eyes a fraction, he conceded right then and there, not needing to talk to anyone else, and Fuji beamed at him in response.

He made the right choice; he could tell.

The doctor bid them goodbye and left after writing a prescription for the pain, even though Tezuka said he wouldn't take it. He quietly got dressed, and Fuji watched him, magazine forgotten.

They didn't speak, but Tezuka could tell that Fuji wanted to say something to him. He didn't, however, and Tezuka wasn't going to broach what would likely be an uncomfortable topic.

Stravinsky played loudly over the speakers, and Tezuka found it energising. It made him want to move around, but he was belted into his seat so he was confined to trying not to fidget. Fuji turned down the music partway through the _Rite of Spring_ and tapped his finger on the steering wheel for a moment.

"Tezuka," Fuji began, glancing quickly at him out of the corner of his eye, "I won't be returning in two weeks. I'll be staying for three weeks, or longer. I understand if you can't come. I can still drive you home."

Turning in his seat, Tezuka watched as Fuji focused on driving. "My time is yours. For however long you need it."

Fuji relaxed visibly after that. He turned and watched the scenery out of the window, and wondered why Fuji had worried about that in the first place. He'd learned a long time ago that Fuji was unpredictable and his plans were always subject to change.

The car ride was a long one. Not only due to distance, but also because of the incredibly vast amount of traffic they had to contend with as they made their way down to Kyuushuu. Fuji spent the time telling him about Yumiko and her two children. Tezuka nodded, because he really didn't know what to add. He had no young relatives, and children didn't seem to be in his future. He would never raise a child alone, and the thought of raising one with Echizen scared him like little else could.

It took an extra day to get to Ibusuki because Fuji insisted on taking him to see at least one of the crater lakes. Even though he'd traveled all over the world, and been to every prefecture of Japan, he'd never seen much beyond each place's tennis courts and training gyms.

They were standing, looking over a lake when Fuji came up next to him. "Beautiful, isn't it? To think this was only possible because of a volcanic eruption."

Tezuka silently agreed, knowing quite well that there was an undeniable beauty created by chaos that made said chaos worthwhile every time.

"Want to take a picture?" Fuji asked, offering the camera to him. Hesitantly, he reached for it. In the past, about one week after any of their excursions, he'd receive a package in the mail from Fuji that included a slew of photographs with his commentary written on the back as well as small souvenirs from the trip he'd never realised Fuji had taken. From a camping trip, Fuji had saved a wildflower, and pressed it between wax paper. On a fishing trip, Fuji had found an antique hook in the dirt near the lake. He still had those things, and the rest, in a small box in the closet in his room. He once tried to show Echizen, but he became disinterested quickly, and Tezuka never bothered after that.

Tezuka pressed the shutter a few times before Fuji put his hand on his arm. "Yes?"

"I'll teach you," Fuji said as he moved to stand behind him. Tezuka let Fuji move his hands and arms, until he was holding the camera to Fuji's satisfaction. "Find what you want to take a picture of. That perfect scene."

Tezuka looked through the viewfinder until he found part of the lake with the sun reflected in it, and he stopped," And then?"

"Move the camera up a fraction, and take the picture." Fuji hadn't moved from his position behind him, and it made Tezuka feel the slightest bit nervous, but he shook it off and did as he was told.

Fuji took the camera from him, pointing at the small screen the previewed the pictures, "See? Perfect."

And it was, unlike his first three pictures. "Thank you," he murmured as he took a few more pictures before handing it back.

Looking at the place they'd be staying, Tezuka decided that Fuji was a master of the understatement. It wasn't so much a cottage as it was a very expensive-looking townhouse. And the lake that it was supposed to reside near wasn't so much a lake as it was a private section of a beach. When he heard cottage and lake, he imagined something similar to that small wooden one they stayed at for a week during senior year of high school. No running water, bad lighting, and drafty windows. Twenty minutes after they'd went to sleep during the first night, Fuji crawled onto his bed, blankets in hand, and pressed close to him before falling back asleep. They didn't bother with the other bed for the rest of the trip.

"Tezuka, are you okay?" Fuji asked as he popped the trunk open. "Your face is red."

He turned away from Fuji for a moment, feeling incredibly stupid for blushing over such a trivial thing. "I'm fine."

Fuji led him inside after they'd gathered their luggage. Tezuka grabbed extra so they wouldn't have to take another trip. Once inside, Tezuka waited for Fuji to show him where to go. He'd obviously been there before, because he made himself at home right away.

"I'll be right back," Fuji said as he headed down the hallway presumably toward the bathroom and bedrooms. While he waited, Tezuka looked at the framed pictures on the mantle. Most of them were of a girl who looked vaguely familiar. She had a bright smile, and in some of them she was quite pregnant. There were a few of the girl and Fuji who had his hand on her belly. There were photos of other people that looked familiar and some of people he didn't recognise at all. It was, however, the last picture that caused him to pause. It was of Fuji and someone he never thought he'd see again. Tachibana.

Just then Fuji walked back into the room and without turning, he asked, "You're friends with Tachibana?"

"Yes, this _is_ his vacation house. He's a publisher now. His company just bought out Pro-Tennis Monthly," Fuji said, as he gathered the bags. "Do you want to sleep in An-chan's room or share with me?"

Tezuka turned to him. "There's not a guest room? Where do you stay when you visit?"

"With Tachibana," Fuji said with an amused quirk to his lips. "He's a restless sleeper, so I often end up on the couch, but it's not comfortable at all."

Not knowing quite how to respond, or why he wanted to know the exact nature of their friendship, but refusing to ask, Tezuka simply said nothing and grabbed his own bags, following Fuji to the bedroom.

One look in An-chan's room, and Tezuka decided to stay with Fuji. From what he recalled of her, however distantly, she was always a tomboy. Her room, however, was filled with pink and stuffed animals. Fuji smiled at the look on his face, and explained that Tachibana still saw his sister as a little girl, and it really wasn't her favourite design either.

"We should get started before my publisher starts leaving angry voicemails on my cell phone," Fuji said with a small laugh. Tezuka had the feeling that it wasn't completely a joke. They walked out to a small room that had nothing but a few easels against the wall and a window with the shades pulled. Fuji set down his bag, and pulled out a large drawing pad and a box of oils pastels. He also pulled out a small piece of cloth and tossed it to him.

Fuji went and moved some things around, throwing a blanket over a chair, and said over his shoulder, "Put that on, and come over here."

Looking down at what he thought was a scrap fabric, he realised that it was more of a wrap. He glanced over at Fuji who was busy rearranging things in the room, and back down at the small thatch of cloth. Sighing, he quickly disrobed and put it on and felt distinctly like he was far too underdressed. Fuji didn't say a word, but dragged him over to the make shift set, and had him lean against the back of the chair.

"Stay there," Fuji said absently as he picked up his pad of paper and began sketching fast and furiously.

Tezuka watched Fuji's hands fly over the paper. "I hadn't realised this is what you meant by help."

Chuckling, Fuji continued to draw. "I didn't explain it to you?" he asked knowing perfectly well that he had been deliberately vague.

"Hm." Tezuka didn't mind that much, and it was far more interesting than carrying bags around.

It was on the fifth day that he decided to voice something that had nagged at him since he began posing for Fuji. "Tachibana normally does this for you?"

Fuji stopped drawing for a moment. "Tachibana does whenever his wife lets him."

He tensed for a moment, knowing that Fuji had seen right through his question to the one he really wanted the answer to. "Ah."

"Echizen doesn't mind you being gone for so long?"

_Point to Fuji_, Tezuka thought. Although he wasn't sure what he'd said to irritate him, he could tell clearly that he had managed just that. "It doesn't concern him."

Smirking, Fuji nodded, but didn't say another word on the matter. For the rest of the afternoon, the only words spoken were quiet directions from Fuji on how to stand, and not to move. Dinner was quiet as well. Fuji had ordered out, saying they could go shopping again tomorrow, and Tezuka merely agreed, not knowing how to make things comfortable again.

After they'd cleaned up, Fuji got a bottle of sake from the cabinet, two small dishes, and beckoned him to follow. Once seated on the bed, Fuji poured each of them a small amount, and set the bottle on the side table.

"Tell me, Tezuka, why you're not happy." Fuji took a sip of his drink, and leaned back so his head was resting against the wall.

He took a sip, not because he wanted it, but for lack of any response. "I'm not unhappy."

Snorting, Fuji took another sip. "Typical of you. Avoiding the question."

"Why aren't you?" he asked before common sense told him not to.

Fuji looked at him with a certain measure of pride and annoyance. "I'm not unhappy, either."

"You've not mentioned Yuuta for a while," Tezuka said by way of explanation.

Pouring himself another drink, Fuji waited a moment to respond. "There's not much to say, really. He took off to America to get away from me, and avoids me during holidays."

"S—"

Fuji held his hand up. "Don't say you're sorry, Tezuka. You've been absent from my life longer than him."

The voice was light, but the words hit him like the accusation they were. "It wasn't my intention."

"No?" Fuji asked sharply. "From what I recall…nevermind. It doesn't matter anymore."

Tezuka wanted to argue that it did very much matter, but he didn't think he'd win. "I…"  
And he really didn't know what to say anymore either.

"Was it because of him?" Fuji asked, sounding unsure of himself for the first time since that rainy day on the tennis courts.

Surprised by the question, Tezuka took his drink and scooted to sit next to Fuji against the wall. "No. _No_," he repeated, because this was one point that he wanted to make very clear.

"Thank you," Fuji said, and he sounded like he meant it more than he wanted to.

Tezuka poured them both another drink and watched the shadows dance on the opposite wall. "Why didn't you call me?"

Smiling, Fuji accepted that if he was allowed to be angry, disappointed, so could Tezuka. "Pride."

He turned, question apparent on his face. "Pride?"

Fuji merely smiled, sipping his drink. He didn't respond, and Tezuka really didn't expect him to.

"You don't love Echizen," Fuji stated plainly, as if that truth needed to be voiced before anything could be right with his world.

Tezuka wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. "No."

Fuji looked as if he wanted to ask something else, but he placed his dish down instead, and turned off the lights. He shifted under the blankets, waiting for Tezuka to do the same, and fell asleep, or at least pretended to. Tezuka stayed awake for another hour, thinking about everything that was left unsaid, and wondered if he should voice any of it at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4 of 8.

Once again, thank you for the reviews. I'm posting this chapter early for Vierblith.

The next morning, Fuji seemed desperately cheerful as if demanding Tezuka to not mention a word of last night's discussion. He had his reservations and a long list of questions he wanted answered, but he was inclined to let it go for now because Fuji was busy with his work. Tezuka simply let himself be directed and watched Fuji draw with a more intense focus than before, cutting off the idle conversation in which they usually engaged.

Fuji set down his art pad with a sigh. Cocking his head, he gave Tezuka a once over before coming to a decision. "Let's go swimming. I'm tired of being inside."

Feeling grateful for the reprieve, Tezuka was disinclined to even complain when he was handed the familiar blue speedo, because Fuji's smile had softened enough that Tezuka knew he was no longer acutely upset. The fact that they had a private beach, therefore limiting anyone who'd see him, didn't hurt.

The water was surprisingly not as cold as he imagined it to be. He stayed in it for a while before the warm beach blanket Fuji laid out for them became more welcoming. Tezuka took off his glasses, setting them in the pocket of Fuji's bag before he lay down beside him.

"Look," Fuji said after being silent most of the morning. "All of the clouds are gone."

Tezuka obeyed, turning his face up to the skies, and noticed for the first time in perhaps months, or longer, that there were no clouds in the sky. He didn't, however, think that Fuji merely wanted to point that out. It had to mean something greater than mere observation. Not knowing what else to say, he settled on something vague.

"I see."

Fuji snorted at that, not fooled in the least. "No, you don't, but you will."

"Are you so certain?" Tezuka asked, wondering, not for the first time, where Fuji developed this finality in all of his seemingly prophetic statements.

Fuji raised himself onto his elbows, and smirked at him. "Certain that you'll understand? Or certain that you didn't know to what I was referring?"

Not answering the question, Tezuka busied himself with putting on his glasses. "Would you like to go out for lunch?"

Much to his surprise, Fuji let the conversation end there. "That sounds great. Do you want to change first?"

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at the question. The chance of him wearing the revealing swimwear for a night on the town may have increased since Fuji was the one with him, but the chances only raised to slim from none. Fuji didn't appear to expect an answer because he simply walked back up to the house, went straight to their room to change.

"Come on, Tezuka," Fuji said calling out from the bedroom. "If you wait 'til I'm done, we'll miss the reservations."

He looked at Fuji curiously as he entered the room. They'd just barely agreed to go to lunch. How did Fuji have time to make reservations? Sparing him from further contemplation, Fuji handed him a pile of clothes to put on before he continued getting dressed.

Looking in the mirror, Tezuka fiddled with his tie, trying to straighten it as best he could. He wasn't too keen on western formal wear, but he didn't feel like arguing with Fuji over clothes. Fuji watched him struggle for a few moments before coming up behind him, batting his hands away.

"Figured you were used to these by now, Tezuka," Fuji commented as he began redoing the tie expertly. "With all those public appearances they force you to go to."

Tezuka eyes stayed trained on Fuji's deft fingers. "They hired someone to do this for me after the fiasco at the Waldorf."

Laughing, Fuji flattened the fixed tie against his chest, and rested his chin on Tezuka's shoulder. "I don't see why they were so surprised by traditional dress. I certainly thought you looked dashing."

"Was that before or after that…_comedian_ decided to mess with my obi?"

Fuji grabbed his jacket as they walked out of the room together. "No one saw anything. Not that much anyhow."

"I seem to recall a photographer happened to be there at that particular moment.

Face filled with mirth, Fuji turned towards him with a large grin. "It's a shame that all of his equipment got all wet and ruined."

Tezuka gave an aggrieved sigh, knowing Fuji would see right through him. "That's only because you stole that photographer's camera bag and tossed it into the pool."

"Pity, there're no surviving pictures of that day. It was so very _memorable_." Fuji had a rather mischievous grin on his face, the one that always worried Tezuka, just a little.

Looking at Fuji out of the corner of his eye as they walked toward the downtown area, Tezuka confirmed on thing he'd been suspicious of for years. "Somehow, I've a feeling that some film from that day survived."

Proudly smiling at Tezuka, Fuji quirked his head to the side, "Perhaps."

The restaurant was small, but obviously fancier than he'd anticipated. He immediately understood why Fuji had dressed them the way he did when he saw the dress of the other patrons. The place seemed to be geared more towards tourists than locals, but Tezuka didn't mind it that much, because at least it was classy and not overly loud.

Fuji pulled something out of his pocket after the waiter had left with their orders. "Happy Birthday, Tezuka Kunimitsu," he said as he handed him an envelope.

Smiling slightly, he opened it carefully, not quite knowing what Fuji would put in there. It was a handmade card, painted with watercolours of one of their favourite spots to fish. It didn't say much more than the usual birthday greetings, but it was obvious that Fuji had spent time making it.

"Thank you, Fuji. I had forgotten about today," he said in apology. He never cared for celebrations once he'd went professional, because it usually meant that he had to spend time with people didn't know, or like for that matter, and having to bow out of any gathering with friends.

Fuji spent the rest of their dinner chatting about a few of the places he'd been over the years and some of his favourite matches that he'd played. Tezuka listened, adding a comment whenever he deemed it necessary, but otherwise he focused on learning about this Fuji who was somewhat different than he was the last time they truly knew each other.

"There's just one more thing," Fuji said after their plates were cleared away. "Well, here anyways."

Before Tezuka had a proper chance to wonder what Fuji was talking about, the waitress came back to their table with a small plate and set it front of him. He gave Fuji a small glare before turning his attention back on what appeared to be his favourite dessert. One of which that he just so happened to never allow himself to indulge. It was a small slice of chocolate turtle cheesecake, covered with caramel, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup.

Tezuka had his fork in his hand before he had a chance to tell himself _no_. If he was going to be horribly bad, he refused to do so alone. He gave Fuji a second fork and pushed the plate so it was in between them. Fuji didn't bother to protest and ate the cheesecake with him. It was beyond decadent. The rich creamy cheesecake with the deliciously sweet and bitter chocolate made him forget that he really shouldn't eat such foods because they were so very tempting. He also didn't allow himself to watch Fuji eat either because he remembered a few times in high school when Fuji decided to test the lines of propriety in a public space.

"Thank you again, Fuji," he said as he laid his fork down on the now empty dessert plate. "Today has been pleasant."

Fuji shook his head. "It was nothing, Tezuka. I'm glad you're having a good time."

The walk back to the cottage was refreshing after their heavy meal. It felt good to move about, and hopefully burn off some of what was ingested. He was just considering if he should take a run before posing for Fuji again, when his train of thought was broken by a hand touching his elbow lightly.

"Let's take the rest of today off," Fuji said thoughtfully. "It's too nice of an afternoon to be cooped up inside in that studio."

They sat down on the steps leading to the house. "I don't want you to be behind," Tezuka replied, not wanting a fuss to be made over his birthday. "Would you rather draw on the beach?"

Amused, Fuji grinned at him. "You'd be willing to wear the costume outside?"

Shrugging, Tezuka said, "It's nothing. It'd be more authentic."

"True," Fuji agreed, "most Greek heroes walked along the shore, looking wearily up at the moon."

Tezuka and Fuji went inside to change and get the supplies before heading back out onto the beach. He didn't know why Fuji had thought that this would be outside his comfort zone anymore than the Speedos. Truthfully, it was an improvement as it covered more.

"Who is your female model," Tezuka asked as he watched Fuji sharpen his charcoal pencil.

He didn't look up, but his smile widened a little as he answered. "Yumiko. She was quite flattered by it since she wasn't thinking too much of her post-pregnancy body."

Tezuka looked out on the waves, allowing the slow repletion of the ebb and flow to calm him.

"You should call him," Fuji remarked after a few moments. He didn't need to elaborate on the _him_ to which he was referring.

Getting to his feet, Tezuka headed back to the house to get his cell phone, not at all surprised when Fuji chose to stay behind.

The phone only rang twice before Echizen picked it up. He barely gave more than a grunt by way of greeting, and Tezuka sighed in response. Normally, his lack of manners on the phone annoyed him, but he decided to let it go for the day.

"How are you?" he asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. They'd not talked in what seemed like ages.

Echizen didn't answer him, but instead chose to completely shock him. "You quit."

Aside from the doctors, Tezuka hadn't discussed that with anyone aside from Fuji, and he wasn't likely to tell anyone. Moreover, he was a little put off by the sheer accusation in Echizen's tone.

Clarifying, and not just for Echizen's benefit alone, Tezuka replied sternly, "I _retired_."

Snorting, Echizen snapped. "Same thing."

"My shoulder can't last. You knew that," he reminded Echizen. He certainly didn't appreciate being made to feel guilty over choosing his health.

Echizen, however, didn't waiver. "Didn't stop you before."

"It wasn't as bad before," Tezuka replied testily. He didn't really think he needed to justify himself to anyone about this. It was his body, after all.

"Whatever. Your choice…or maybe not," Echizen said coolly. Tezuka did not like that tone at all, and he felt himself get more aggravated over the conversation.

He didn't know what Echizen had been thinking had happened, but he wasn't going to let him carry on with misconceptions. "It _was_ my decision and mine alone."

Echizen gave a short bitter laugh. "Sure."

Sighing, Tezuka tried to end the argument before it got worse. "I'll be home in a few weeks."

"Thought you were only going for two weeks?" Echizen asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

Glancing at the calendar, Tezuka responded. "Fuji and I decided to stay for another week or two."

This statement was met with silence, and Tezuka wondered if he had forgotten something, but he'd double-checked and his schedule was clear.

"Going to Monkey King's." And with that, Echizen hung up, preventing further discussion. There was a certain finality in Echizen's tone, but Tezuka dismissed it as remnants of their argument.

Fuji opened the door moments after he'd ended the conversation. "What's wrong?"

Sometimes, Fuji could be far too perceptive, Tezuka thought as he put his cell down. "Nothing."

Tilting his head slightly, Fuji contemplated something for a moment before walking over to a small cabinet. He grabbed two things out of it and walked over into the kitchen. A few minutes later, the smell of popcorn was in the air. Fuji came out with a large bowl of it as he nodded his head towards the room.

After Fuji put the movie on, he handed Tezuka the familiar small dish filled with sake and placed the bowl of popcorn on the bed nearby. It was another quiet comfort that Fuji offered him for which he was grateful. It was a stupid, gory horror movie that Fuji no doubt found amusing for its sheer ridiculousness, but it was better than thinking about how he'd let Echizen down in someway.

They were getting to the scene where the small group of people fighting the zombies had finally found relative safety, when Fuji turned to him. "That'd be you," he said pointing to the screen.

"A reanimated corpse?" Tezuka asked, trying to joke a little.

Fuji stared at him for a moment before laughing very hard into his shoulder. "You…You will never stop being Tezuka Kunimitsu, will you?"

It wasn't really a question, and if it were, it didn't need a response, but Tezuka relaxed against Fuji and watched while a zombie made a meal out of someone's…well, he really couldn't pinpoint which body part it was, but it was no longer living.

"You'd be like that guy," Fuji continued as if the discussion had never stopped. "That one guy that knew where to find a tough car and a supply of food and a never ending supply of guns and ammunition. You'd be that guy that everyone follows because they somehow know that he'd make sure that they wouldn't become zombie lunch."

It was oddly flattering in way, even though it was somewhat morbid. "And you," Tezuka replied as another person was eaten alive, "would be the one to remember to take chocolate and alcohol when getting supplies."

Fuji smiled at him, not bothering to get up immediately even though the credits began to roll. Fuji always had a way of knowing which things were necessity regardless of how frivolous they might seem to people at times. Like chocolate cheesecake on a birthday. Like badly made horror movies and microwave popcorn when he need a distraction. Like silence when the world was too loud. Like chatter when everything's too quiet. Those little things that made life worth living. He took another bite of popcorn and watched Fuji put on another movie.


	5. Chapter 5

Part five of eight.

Thank you very much for the reviews.

In the three days since his birthday, Tezuka was pleased to note things had become easier between them. Fuji's smiles were a little more effortless and he felt a distinctive ease in tensions. The issue with Echizen was still on his mind, but it was also nothing he could deal with at the moment. He hated to admit that he was a more than a little grateful for the reprieve.

Fuji had left early that morning to meet with someone for the article he was writing. They had stayed up relatively late the night before talking, but he was still surprised that he slept through Fuji's alarm. He wasn't exactly sure of what to do and the lack of doing anything for Fuji made this trip seem more like a vacation than a business trip. The idea of doing nothing for the sake of doing nothing wasn't something of which he was entirely comfortable. He'd rather that Fuji wake him and drag him along wherever he went than to waste time trying, and failing, to relax.

He wandered into the studio, not knowing what else to do, and was surprised to see his name on a slip of paper. Fuji knew him far too well. The note was brief, only stating that Tezuka should look at the pile beneath it. It was a small stack of photo albums. He picked up the top one, opening it with interest. Surprisingly, the photos were recent ones of Fuji. He had figured that they'd be of the team or family, because Fuji had always preferred being behind the camera, and not in front of it.

He knew, of course, that life didn't stop those years they didn't speak more than perfunctory hellos at functions they both attended. For some reason, however, knowing that Fuji had this whole world of experiences he didn't know about _after_ was wholly different than knowing he'd had them before they'd ever met.

Fuji was smiling in the pictures, not that Tezuka expected any different, but instead of sitting next to various members of their old team or a begrudging Yuuta, Fuji was sitting close to that Tachibana, his sister, and other people he only vaguely recognised, if at all. Only a few pages in, and he set down that particular book. He, quite frankly, didn't want to examine just why the sight of Tachibana's arm thrown casually around Fuji's shoulders irritated him so much. Whatever he thought about Tachibana was made more awkward due to the fact that he was vacationing in his house. It wasn't proper to take advantage of someone's generosity and bear them ill will in the same breath.

The next album was more familiar, filled with snapshots of Seigaku during their second year. There were a few of Inui, too engrossed in his notebooks to look at the camera. Another few of Kikumaru draped over Oishi as he fixed the tape on his racquet. Some were of Kaidoh looking down as he listened to whatever Inui was telling him. Others were of Momoshiro and Kaidoh, in various states of competition or argument.

Most of the pictures were of him. In some, he was playing in one of the intra-school ranking matches, others he was doing various mundane things, like checking the tension on his racquet, drinking water from a bottle, or tying his shoes. So often people told him that he had only one expression, he sometimes believed it. However, all of these photographs showed a range of emotion, from pleased to annoyed to disappointed. He hadn't even realised when half of these were taken, he was so engrossed in whatever match he was doing at the time.

It seemed like a lifetime ago, even though the focus of his life hadn't changed much at all. Just as there were opponents then, he had his opponents now. However, he never really acquired rivals during his time in the professional circuit. Not like the rivalries he'd had during Seigaku. It was strange, Tezuka thought as he paged through the memories. Seigaku was his entire world when he was fourteen. Nothing seemed more important to him at the time. Since he'd left, he barely gave his old school a passing thought.

Underneath that album was one of pictures that Fuji had obviously not taken himself. The quality was poorer, but the benefit was that Fuji was featured in some of the shots. Most of them were of matches that Fuji played. He was always breathtaking when on the court, that much was clear, even when the inherent nature of still photography minimized it. There was this fierce look he had that almost changed his face completely from the smiling complacency he normally showed the world.

The next to last book was of their third year. It was much like the last except there was an addition of Echizen to the shots, looking younger than he had any right to. It was awkward to say the least. He only looked through a few pages before he set down that one with a sigh. Things were much simpler then, he thought, much, much simpler.

The last album was mostly of just them. Tezuka looked at each page with mild fascination. There were shots of every place they'd fished, every trail they'd hiked, every trip they'd had. Fuji had given him some of these pictures before, and they now resided at his mother's house and in the back of his closet. The angle of most shots with both of them in it was odd, and likely from the camera sitting on an uneven surface on a timer.

Next to the chair the albums were stacked on was a small black bag. He almost didn't give it a second look when he restacked the albums except there was another bound book inside of it that looked like the albums he'd just gone through. He pulled it out, and leaned back against the chair as he looked inside. One page in, and Tezuka thought he could feel flames crawl along his cheeks.

Tezuka now knew exactly why this album wasn't with the others. Fuji was in each picture, shot after shot, completely naked. He gripped the pages tightly, knowing he should put it back, and not look at it any further, but not managing to find the will to do so. Taking a deep breath, he tried to quiet the singular thought that rang louder through his head than any other. Just who in the hell was the photographer who took these pictures? They weren't professional, as far as he could see, and none had a trademark stamp in the corner with a photographer's insignia. They were, however, very _graphic_, and in a variety of different poses.

Guilt, which was becoming more and more familiar, ran through him. He knew he shouldn't be looking at these, but did regardless. Tezuka told himself that Fuji would allow him to see this if he'd asked, which was true, except that he'd never ask. More difficult for him to deal with was the fact that these pictures of Fuji naked aroused him more than the reality of Echizen. This, he decided, was really too much for anyone to think about sitting down. Just as he went to close the book, he noticed one picture at the very end that he'd almost missed. Fuji was on the bed, surrounding by white pillows and sheets, but fast asleep. His eyes were closed, and his skin glistened slightly on the small curve of his back. Without even thinking, he took the picture out of the plastic covering and put it in his wallet before getting up and leaving the room.

A jog was definitely in order. He felt tense and uneasy; two things of which he had no desire to feel. He got on his shorts, tank top, and running shoes, and took off down the beach. Running made him feel better, even if only temporarily, and the feel of sweat on his skin was both comforting and familiar. Tezuka desperately longed for something that was neither new nor strange. He wanted to go back to when he never questioned his choices or had second thoughts about decisions he'd made. Most of all, he wanted to stop feeling like the bastard he knew he was being to two people that had been important to him for what felt like ages.

Fuji came back around six with takeout. It wasn't too greasy, for which he was thankful, or too spicy, for which he was relieved. However, every time he looked at Fuji, he could feel the weight of the photograph in his pocket, and remembered what he'd seen earlier, so he ended up looking away at anything else.

"Tezuka?" Fuji asked after a while. "Is anything…Do you want to talk?"

Looking up at Fuji, Tezuka shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Oh," Fuji said, not sounding convinced in the least. They finished the meal in silence, Fuji shooting him the occasional questioning glance. Uncomfortably, he got to his feet and brought their disposable utensils and plates to the trash. He could hear Fuji shuffling things around in the living room, swearing softly under his breath.

He sat down on the sofa, not knowing what else to do. Fuji had gone into the other room, excusing himself for a few minutes, to which Tezuka merely nodded. Perhaps, Tezuka thought, they could watch movies again. Anything was better than the tension that seemed to come back between them every so often.

Tezuka was just watching the last remnants of light slowly die when a heavy weight thudded into his lap. Fuji sat down next to him, smile broad and almost transcending into laughter. He looked down and opened his eyes wide at the pile of manga Fuji had given to him. He looked at the different titles, and spared an upraised eyebrow to Fuji, who looked pleased at his discomfort.

"I was meeting with Tachibana about an article when An-chan came in the room. She wasn't very happy. The girl that was supposed to do the art for her story broke her hand and couldn't finish, and she had a deadline." Fuji picked up one book from the pile, looking at it fondly. "She knew I could draw, and asked for my help."

Tezuka nodded, but didn't say anything, not knowing what he could add to this conversation.

"Those pictures you looked at earlier were taken by me alone in a room with a camera on a timer. I had a hard time getting the bodies to look natural. There was no one I felt comfortable enough to pose for me." Fuji placed the book back in his lap.

The words that he would have were on his tongue, but he swallowed them before he could voice it. They weren't talking when this happened. Saying anything that would bring that sore point up again would do nothing but make things uncomfortable. Not that having Fuji know he spent time looking at naked photographs of him wasn't already uncomfortable enough.

With little more than a week left at the house, Fuji began to work a little faster. Tezuka got the distinct impression that when Fuji was alone, he spent more time cooped up in the studio than he was during this trip, and he knew that he was the cause. Tezuka supposed he could go home to let Fuji finish in peace, but the second the offer left his lips, Fuji gave him a look that stated very clearly that he was not to leave a second sooner than originally agreed upon. He chose not to argue with him. He did promise, after all, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he didn't want to leave yet either.

Things were getting a little more stressful, though, despite Fuji's ability to not fret under pressure. The book publisher e-mailed, noting that they'd need the art one week earlier than expected. Fuji smiled, and asked if he minded another trip out to the beach. Tezuka agreed, allowing Fuji whatever he needed. There were only a few more poses that needed to be finished, but what he'd been doing was only line work. Fuji also needed to complete the art, which took more time.

Fuji was in the bathroom when the phone rang. He was already in bed, reading a short article Fuji had written when he heard Fuji's voice echo down the hall, asking him to get it.

"Hello," he answered, unsure how he should answer someone else's phone.

There was a pause on the other line before an unwanted and familiar voice greeted him brusquely. "Tezuka, is that you?"

"Yes."

Tachibana sounded vaguely irritated. "Where's Syusuke?"

_Syusuke_, was it? "He's in the bath."

"And you're not with him?" Tachibana asked with a bitter tone.

Tezuka didn't deign to respond to that. "Would you care to leave a message?"

"Well," Tachibana responded, still irritable. "I need to talk to _him_."

"I'll have him call you when he's finished," Tezuka answered, wishing this call would end.

"No, my wife's home right now." Tezuka raised his eyebrow at that. Fuji had said that their relationship was platonic, but that didn't sound like the response of someone who was just a friend.

"Hm." Tezuka fingers gripped the phone tightly, willing himself not to slam it down.

"And Tezuka," Tachibana said after a few moments. "If you hurt him again…"

Tezuka didn't need to hear the rest of that line and, despite knowing it was incredibly rude to do so, he hung up before Tachibana had a chance to finish the sentence.

Fuji emerged from the bath with a small towel wrapped around his waist, and one around his shoulders as he half-heartedly dried his hair. "Was that Tachibana?"

With a curt nod, Tezuka turned and walked stiffly back into the bedroom. He got under the sheets, turning on his side to face the wall. He didn't know what to say, and he knew he had no right to feel what he was feeling, but he just…he needed to go home before he did or said something he'd regret.

A few moments later, Fuji crawled into bed bedside him. He could feel the heat of where Fuji's body was close to his, and he clenched his eyes shut. Tezuka, however, didn't say a word when Fuji reached out, and touched his arm, imploring him to roll over. He did, looking directly into Fuji's eyes, which were furrowed in confusion and slight worry.

"I-," he began, voice catching slightly as he spoke. He wanted to apologise, but he couldn't make the words come out. "Tachibana said he wants to talk to you, but not to call because his _wife_ is home."

Comprehension dawned on Fuji's face as the lines slowly disappeared from his forehead. "I'll call him in the morning. It's not important right now." _He's not important_.

Relief came followed by guilt again. He shouldn't even care about who they were together, but he did. It was then he realised just what Echizen must have felt whenever he spoke of Fuji. He got out of bed and walked into the living room for his cell phone. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. He left a short message, before turning the phone back off and going back to bed.

Some time during the night, Fuji's arm found its way around his waist, but instead of taking it off, he twined their fingers together, pulling him closer, blaming his groggy state and the flimsy excuse of friendship for his choice.


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for the reviews. Part six of eight.

Reminder: This story follows manga canon, not anime canon.

It was early, Tezuka could tell, when he was forcefully drawn from sleep by a small irritation that needled its way into his mind until he could no longer ignore it or not pay attention. He didn't know why he was awake, but he could tell it definitely wasn't his own body telling him it was time for exercise. Blinking, Tezuka slowly came into awareness. It was still dark out, but he couldn't tell whether it was too late at night or too early in the morning for Fuji to be talking on the telephone.

"Yes," Fuji said, sounding tired. "He told me you called. Stop that. I really don't see how that's any of your business, Kippei. What did you want? Aside from that?"

Tezuka felt his irritation go up a notch. That Tachibana asked too much of Fuji, obviously, and took too many liberties. Especially if he had the nerve to make Fuji call him at such an hour to no doubt be requested to do something.

"Oh, I understand," Fuji whispered. "It's not a problem." Tezuka could tell by Fuji's tone that it was, however, and he didn't care for the fact that Fuji was doing his best to not let Tachibana know. He wondered if Tachibana knew Fuji well enough to tell the nuances in his tone, or if it was still his privilege alone.

Tezuka sat up, taking the phone from Fuji's hand, only unresisting due to the surprise that was evident on his face.

"Syusuke?" Tachibana asked, voice warm unlike when they usually spoke. Tezuka frowned. "No."

Tachibana issued a slight sound of disappointment. "Tezuka, what do you want?"

"Fuji's tired. Call back later," Tezuka said firmly, hanging up without bothering to wait for Tachibana's response. He lay back down on the bed, placing the phone on the nightstand closest to him and shut his eyes.

Normally, Fuji would have teased him for overreacting, but this time Fuji stayed silent. Tezuka, for a moment, wished Fuji would tease him. It would mean that things were normal between them, instead of how they really were. It was almost unsettling. Also, it reminded him of things that he didn't want to remember. Things were _complicated_ and he disliked complications immensely.

After a few moments, the bed shifted and Fuji settled back down next to him. He felt a hand tentatively touch his hip, and Tezuka didn't hesitate to grab Fuji's hand, holding it tightly to his belly as he tried to fall back asleep. It wasn't, though, until Fuji moved closer, chest flush against his back, that he relaxed.

"Tezuka," Fuji said, voice in a whisper. He didn't respond, knowing that there were questions that he didn't want to answer and behaviors he couldn't explain. Instead, he pretended to sleep, pretended that he didn't hang up the phone for any other reason than jealousy, pretended that he didn't have Fuji's hand grasped tightly in his own, pretended that there was no past, no present between them, pretended that he couldn't feel Fuji's lips briefly on the back of his neck, and pretended that he didn't feel overwhelming conflict over what to do rise up inside of him.

Rolling over, Tezuka realised that, once again, he was alone. Glancing at the window, he noted that it was light out. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, wondering if Fuji had left him a note. Surprisingly, he found Fuji sitting at the table smiling in a way that said he was distressed about something, if you knew him. There were piles of papers scattered around the place where he had his laptop computer and cup of tea. Tezuka sat down next to Fuji, and rubbed Fuji's shoulder for a moment.

Fuji looked up at him, smiling a little for him, before he turned back to his laptop. Taking his cup, he took a sip of tea before setting the glass back down, almost too heavily.

"Fuji," Tezuka began. He placed his hand over Fuji's, stilling his movement. "What's the matter?"

"That call you so kindly ended earlier was about the magazine. Tachibana is busy helping his sister. Normally, when he can't do his job, Shinji does it in his stead. However, he's sick. Has Laryngitis and a nasty fever. So, he asked me to finish the editing. I usually can handle things, but they just pushed up the deadline for my art by a week," Fuji said with a sigh. He took another sip of his tea before resuming his typing. "I'm just emailing back to confirm, and then I need to finish colouring the art."

"I'll get you another cup of tea," Tezuka said, getting to his feet. "Are you hungry?"

Fuji shook his head. "No, tea is fine. After I'm done with the art, I need to make sure each article is typo-free, photographs are properly credited, and the layout is correct."

When the tea was ready, Tezuka brought two cups back out to the kitchen table. Fuji took his with a word of thanks, before disappearing back into the studio to colour. After he finished his drink, Tezuka changed into his workout clothes and went for a run. Fuji didn't need him hanging around the house all day, poking around with nothing to do.

The run made him feel a little bit better. Whenever he had too many things on to think about, exercise always alleviated some of his stress. It gave him time to think with a clear mind. He still didn't understand why he was acting so ridiculously about Tachibana. Last night, or this morning—he still wasn't completely sure—he acted rather poorly when he hung up the phone. Fuji wasn't his, and even if he were, he couldn't control with whom he chose to speak. Tezuka simply didn't like the guy. He never had, even during junior high when his eyes lingered a little too long on things they had no business looking at in the first place.

Every single thought about Fuji also made him think of Echizen. They needed to speak to each other, and honestly. They both had made a habit of avoiding any sort of discussion that might be uncomfortable, but Tezuka knew that it was unavoidable now. He still didn't know exactly what he should say, only that he knew there were things to be said. Something about Echizen's behaviour lately told him that Echizen had things to tell him as well.

It was shortly after noon when he returned to the house. He hadn't realised that he'd jogged for so long. It didn't help that he also did one hundred each of push-ups, sit-ups, and various types of stretches. The kitchen table looked much the same as it did prior to when he left. The only noticeable difference was that there was now a huge stack of newly printed pages next to the laptop, which was open to a layout of a page of the magazine.

Tezuka called out to Fuji, but received no response. Directly he went to the studio and found Fuji there, slumped over his art, asleep. Even from the door of the room, Tezuka could see how tired Fuji looked, even in repose. He quietly and carefully picked up Fuji and carried him to the bedroom. Fuji turned on his side as soon as Tezuka set him down, and continued to sleep without even waking slightly.

Quietly as he could, Tezuka left the room and went to the kitchen. He made himself a small lunch and sat down at the kitchen table. Curiosity drove him to take a peek at the pile of papers. They were printouts of all the articles that were to be in the magazine along with a terse email written to Fuji from that Tachibana. It requested one short opinion piece to fill a gap that they had about an up and coming tennis player.

Looking down the hall to where Fuji was sleeping, Tezuka wondered if he should wake him. The deadlines were fast approaching, and it seemed that everyone was demanding all of Fuji's time and energy. Instead, Tezuka picked up the pen sitting next to the laptop and began going through the articles himself, making corrections as he read. When he finally reached the last page, he looked up and realised that it was now getting dark outside. Fuji still hadn't come out of the bedroom, and Tezuka assumed that if he was still sleeping, he must have needed it.

He set down the pile of papers and turned to the laptop, opened a new document and began writing the requested article. Tezuka had never given much thought to writing in the past, beyond a sparse few things he'd written during junior high. Most of his time was spent never sitting still long enough to do more than eat. Surprisingly, Tezuka found that it easier than he'd expected. Despite his initial reservations, he found himself enjoying the process of putting his thoughts down on paper again. The upstart was someone he'd had more than a passing interest in only because he was interested in anyone that might one day be a potential opponent, but writing about him proved to challenge his initial reaction to compare the man to himself, and only delegating him to one of three categories: better than him, not as good as him, but one day he might, and never will be good enough.

As soon as he was done, he checked that the magazine was arranged properly, noticing only one place that needed fixing. Then he picked up the mess of paperwork off the table and set it aside. After that, Tezuka took a short walk to a local store, buying a few necessary ingredients for the dinner he wanted to prepare. Once the dinner was cooked and set on the table, Tezuka finally made his way back to the bedroom to wake Fuji.

Standing in the doorway, Tezuka watched Fuji sleep for a few minutes, curiously unwilling to disturb him just yet. It was because he knew Fuji would be annoyed that Tezuka let him sleep too long that he didn't wake him. That and because Tezuka was unsure if Fuji would appreciate Tezuka's interference with the magazine editing and his article which kept him from moving from the door to the bed. There was a strange period of time in which Fuji slept and Tezuka stared, and no one dared move except for the necessity of breathing. It was only when Fuji shifted that Tezuka finally crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook Fuji awake.

"Fuji," Tezuka said quietly, "dinner's ready."

Blinking, Fuji sat up with a serene expression that lasted only a moment before a look of sheer panic came over him. "What time is it?"

Tezuka rubbed Fuji's back soothingly for a moment. "I took care of everything. Come, let's have dinner."

With that, he stood up and left the room, Fuji following him to the kitchen.

"You cooked curry," Fuji said with a grin. "My favourite."

Merely inclining his head in response, Tezuka began to eat. He didn't always care for curries, but after a few trips to England, Tezuka learned to appreciate it more. One of the people he'd met there delighted in all things curry, and little else, for that matter. He included a small serving of plain yogurt with the meal; it was something he'd picked up overseas. It did more to cut the intensity of the spice without taking away the enjoyment of it than water or milk.

Fuji's face lit up after the first bite, adding a little more hot mango chutney to the dish. After a few more minutes, Fuji stopped eating and shot him a curious glance. Before Tezuka could react, Fuji's hand was over at his own plate, stealing a small bite from it. Before he even fully swallowed, Fuji's smile widened as he realised that Tezuka hadn't made himself a milder dish.

"Getting daring in your old age," Fuji teased as he went back to his own meal. Tezuka almost smiled at that. It was true that he avoided anything Fuji professed to enjoy eating in the past.

Anyone that had ever claimed to like any of what Inui had created must have had a skewed sense of taste. Fuji had once confessed as they huddled together under a blanket during a particularly cold winter night, that if one drank the juice slowly, the taste would reflect the different flavours, but drinking it too fast made it mesh together in a rather unappetizing way. And, Fuji had added with a secretive grin, he had taken to sucking on mints before and after practice.

"I guess I am," Tezuka replied lightly. It was never a bad thing to see Fuji in a playful mood, even when the result ended in him being tardy more times than he'd like to admit.

After dinner was cleared away, Tezuka watched with mild trepidation as Fuji began to look at what he'd tried to do while Fuji slept, both his article and the edits. As much as part of him wanted to leave the house for a while, coming back when it was all over, another part of him remained resolutely fixed in the same position. He leaned against the wall, eyes never leaving Fuji's face, taking in every expression that came out as he read. There were times when he nodded at something and other times that his lips quirked just so, like he did when he didn't like something. It felt longer than it was, but after two hours, Fuji set down the pile and looked up at him with an expression he hadn't seen since the last time Fuji had watched one his official matches. It was a mixture of awe, delight, and exasperation. He always understood the first two, but never the last. That was one of the many mysteries about Fuji he'd still yet to puzzle out.

"Amazing, Tezuka," Fuji said with no hint of sarcasm in his voice. "But, it's you and I should have expected as much."

Tezuka turned his face to the side, not knowing why that small bit of praise made his face heat up slightly. "Thank you."

Fuji gathered everything together and put it neatly away. He quickly added a few things before he sent the files off to the head company with a few short emails. Fuji then went to the studio to retrieve the art. He scanned a few pages into the computer and sent it off to the author, who responded immediately. After Fuji received the approval Tezuka never once doubted he'd get, Fuji placed all the art neatly into an envelope and got it ready to be mailed.

As soon as Fuji was finished, he sat down on the couch with a relieved sigh. Tezuka watched from where he was standing, but didn't move. If Fuji was finished, that meant that they'd be leaving tomorrow. It wasn't like he didn't know that it was going to happen, but for one reason or another, he wasn't quite ready to go. He wanted to stay in this small place where only he and Fuji existed for a little while longer.

He sat down next to Fuji only after he receiving a curious glance and a none-too subtle nod at an empty space on the couch. As soon as he sat down, Fuji placed his feet in Tezuka's lap and leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa.

"Even after all of this, I know I'll still procrastinate the next time," Fuji said. "I know myself far too well. It's boring being able to predict what I'll do in any situation." Fuji laughed at himself then, but not without a slight hint of bitterness.

"You and only you," Tezuka replied. No one, as far as he was concerned, could ever fully predict Fuji, least of all him.

"Do you always know what you'll do, Tezuka?" Fuji asked then. Tezuka knew immediately that there was a right and a wrong way to answer that question, but he was also painfully aware that he didn't know which fell into either category.

He placed his hand on one of Fuji's feet, gently rubbing the sole for a few moments before he answered. "Mostly. However, sometimes…" he said, trailing off. There was no way he could answer that question without having to answer the follow-up.

Fuji hummed in acknowledgement, but didn't pull his feet away from Tezuka's hands, which were both rubbing Fuji's left foot now. He hadn't done that in years, but he still found it excruciatingly familiar, as if his hands would never have forgotten such a thing.

"You're still the best at this," Fuji commented after a few minutes. Tezuka nodded his thanks, but didn't say anything in return. "Practice much?"

He did pause then, and looked over a Fuji, who was peering at him intently. "No." However, it was then that he realised the implication of Fuji's prior comment, and asked, "Better than whom?"

With a smirk on his lips, Fuji looked over at him, and answered as if he knew exactly whom Tezuka was thinking about. "He's _married_, Tezuka."

"To whom?" he asked, despite himself, driven by vague curiosity and a need to say anything that wouldn't make him seem like a jealous fool.

Fuji wiggled his other foot, nudging Tezuka's hand until he began rubbing that one instead. "Miyuki."

Tezuka's hands stopped again as he looked over at Fuji who was wearing an innocent expression. The name was familiar and suddenly he matched one of the faces in the photographs to that young girl he once spent time playing tennis with in his youth. If he recalled, that girl had an older brother…and then there were the rumours. The foot in his hand wiggled again, and he remembered what he was doing. "Oh."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Fuji's voice held a hint of amusement and a larger hint of warning.

"Nothing," Tezuka didn't want to say what he was thinking. It would only serve to prove Fuji right in the end. Fuji spent enough time thinking he was right.

Fuji, however, wasn't quite willing to let it go yet. "You can tell me, Tezuka. After all, we are _friends._"

Nothing set off alarms more than that statement, however, there was little else he could do but answer. "A mere observation would lead one to believe that he keeps the women in his life around so he doesn't have to waste time picking up random men."

He could feel the stare without needing to even look at Fuji's face, but he looked nonetheless. Fuji's expression would have been amusing if it weren't for the fact that he didn't know how Fuji'd react. Fuji's shock gave way to laughter in a matter of moments. The couch shook with the force of it as Fuji grabbed his tummy, which was undulating from it.

"Oh, my Tezuka," Fuji said between giggles, "if anyone else were to say that, I'd say that it was _catty_."

"It's late," he replied, looking at the clock and not on Fuji's laughing face.

Fuji pulled his feet away and got to his feet. "So it is. Let's get to bed. We have a long drive tomorrow."

Following him back to the room, Tezuka spared a quick glance at the bag where his cell phone was. He only debated for a moment whether he should call Echizen, before he decided that he just see him tomorrow. Fuji was already in the bed when he got to the room. He quickly stripped to his boxers and crawled into the bed.

After about twenty minutes of not sleeping and being keenly aware that Fuji wasn't either, Tezuka felt an arm around his waist and breath against his ear.

"Why don't you just ask me what you want to ask me?" Fuji's voice was no more than a whisper, but he could tell that it was serious.

"You wanted me to wonder," he replied, knowing that he couldn't do what Fuji wanted.

Fuji laughed a little at that. "True, but it wouldn't have worked if you didn't let it."

Tezuka couldn't argue with that. He put his hand on Fuji's again, fully awake and aware that there was little excuse for it…not that he had much of one before.

"If I asked my questions, would you answer them honestly?" Tezuka found himself needing to know if it was worth it.

"Perhaps. It depends if I thought you deserved an answer," Fuji said, moving just enough away that Tezuka felt a slight chill on his back.

"I suppose you have your questions for me," Tezuka said then, wondering if Fuji would take the bait.

Fuji chuckled. "I did. You've already answered mine. Even the ones I never asked."

The darkness made this whole conversation easier, but their proximity made it harder. There was always a price for everything. Tezuka accepted these things in the end, not because he had no choice, but because he figured that it was worth it.

"I have one question," Tezuka said after a few moments of silent debate. "If you'd indulge me this once…"

"Ask," Fuji replied, moving back into the space he'd occupied only minutes ago.

"Will you ever stop being angry with me?" Tezuka knew that Fuji wasn't expecting that question by the way his body tensed behind him.

He was almost sure that Fuji wasn't going to answer, when he felt Fuji's cheek against his arm. "It depends."

"You answered me," Tezuka began, but before he could add _but told me nothing_, he was stopped by a quiet voice with a tone that spoke volumes.

Fuji caressed his hand once, and said, "I was feeling indulgent."


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7 of 8.

Thanks for all the reviews. They make my day.

The sunlight had barely begun to stream into the window when Tezuka felt himself wake despite his resistance. Reluctantly, he opened one eye, and was greeted to the sight of Fuji standing in the middle of the room, completely naked. He closed his eyes again, fighting the urge to look again, compelled by the desire _not_ to have Fuji catch him watching. He could hear Fuji move about, but was surprised to feel the slight press of cool lips against his cheek. It was only for a moment; he then heard Fuji closing the bedroom door behind them.

Tezuka opened his eyes, hand subconsciously resting on his cheek, and sighed. Was this something Fuji did every morning? Or was it just because today they were leaving? Tezuka shook his head as he got out of bed. Enough time had elapsed for him to wake up on his own accord.

He quickly got dressed and walked out to the kitchen where Fuji was cooking breakfast. Fuji acknowledged him immediately with a grin and a short wave with his spatula.

"Morning," Tezuka murmured, sitting down at the table. He picked up the paper, not really reading it, but wanting something other than Fuji to study.

A plate was set down in front of him, followed by a cup of tea. "Good morning," Fuji said, voice light as he sat down across from Tezuka with his own meal.

Tezuka immediately looked up, trying to gauge Fuji's mood. Something in his voice told Tezuka that Fuji was not entirely as cheerful as the disposition he'd presented.

"When are we leaving?" Tezuka asked when Fuji noticed his observation and looked at him expectantly.

Setting down his chopsticks, Fuji shrugged, replying, "I figured we'd leave as soon as we finished eating. Unless there was something else you wanted to do?"

"No," said Tezuka as he gathered their dishes. "We can leave as soon as we've packed."

The ride back home was mostly silent, tampered down by the weight of the things he couldn't give voice to. Tezuka, instead, watched Fuji out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to watch the scenery. After a while, he took out a notepad, and began to write. Fuji looked at the pad of paper curiously for a moment, but didn't ask about it.

"When," Tezuka began, realising that they'd be at his house within ten minutes," will we resume our weekly games?"

"We haven't even said goodbye and you already want to see me again," Fuji asked in a light tone. The implications of Fuji's response made his cheeks burn a little, but he ignored it.

Tezuka tapped his fingers on the depressed lock on the door, and said, "Mondays and Wednesdays are still favourable to me, but we can switch if you like."

Fuji smiled, not taking his eyes off the road for more than the few seconds it took to glance at him. "You have a one-track mind, Tezuka."

He didn't know what to say then. Their time at Tachibana's house hadn't been without tension, but he wouldn't have called it a disaster either. However, speaking to him whilst sitting in a car, during a bright afternoon was completely different from last night, blanketed under the darkness and Fuji's arms.

By the time Fuji pulled in front of his flat, Tezuka still didn't know what he should say, and the moment passed. Fuji helped him carry one bag up the steps, but no further than the front door.

"Thank you," Tezuka said, "for having me. It was…pleasant." He felt stupid as soon as he spoke, but Fuji smiled at him warmly anyhow.

Fuji touched his cheek, replying, "I should thank you. We'll see about the matches," he added before he stretched on his toes to give Tezuka a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Tezuka watched as Fuji walked back to the car, and had the urge to stop him, needing a promise that they'd meet again, but instead he grabbed his bags and walked inside.

The flat was quiet when he arrived, not that he was surprised, chilly, and felt uncharacteristically empty. Which, Tezuka discovered as soon as he flipped on the lights, was because it _was_ empty. The only things left in the room were the sofa, two tennis magazines, and two upturned cans of Ponta.

Sighing, Tezuka brought his bags to his room, not surprised to see it in a similar state of half-empty disarray. He picked up his cellphone, calling Echizen to at least talk, but ended up listening to his voice mail once more. It occurred to him that the reason he'd been unable to reach Echizen the few times he'd called wasn't an accident.

Tezuka pressed the button for Fuji's number, but only let his finger hover over the send button before closing the phone, and stuffing it in his pocket. Calling Fuji, Tezuka decided, would be a mistake in this particular circumstance. Instead, he put away his things, changed his clothes, and left to find Echizen. The need for them to talk hadn't disappeared with Echizen's choice to leave.

Taking a deep breath, Tezuka walked up the steps to Atobe's mansion. If it weren't for the fact that he knew that Echizen was staying there, Tezuka wouldn't have come. He disliked having to deal with Atobe unless absolutely necessary, because when Atobe became involved, nothing was ever quick or simple.

He was ushered in by a man in a black velvet suit to the room Echizen, Atobe, and Ryuuzaki were having lunch.

Atobe smirked at him, which was never a good sign, and gestured that he sit down. "How nice of you to join us for lunch, Tezuka."

Ignoring Atobe, which he knew he'd pay for later, Tezuka turned to Echizen, and said, "We need to talk."

Echizen looked up at him, affecting a careless attitude. "There's nothing to say. You're with Fuji-senpai."

"Fuji and I are just friends," he replied, a bit testily. He was tired of this ridiculousness. He had no claim over Fuji, and was tired of people assuming that he did. It was frustrating that he continued to need to repeat that they weren't together.

Getting to his feet, Echizen smirked, tugged down his cap, and gave him a look of disbelief and exasperation, grunting out a annoyed, "Che."

"This meal is quite splendid. You should have some," Atobe said then in a voice that brooked no disagreement. Tezuka took a seat directly across from Atobe, and waited to be served.

Echizen walked over to the corner of the room, grabbed his racquet, and nudged Ryuuzaki in the arm. "Sakuno, play a match with me."

She nodded, and followed after him. She'd been Echizen's assistant for years, more from habit than appointment, but Echizen didn't care enough to tell her to stop, and she likely wouldn't listen anyhow.

Once they were gone, Atobe cast a speculating look in his direction. "So you just slept with him?"

Slightly put off by the directness, Tezuka asked irritably, "Of course not. I'd never cheat on him with Fuji. Is that what you told him?"

"I didn't need to tell him anything, Tezuka," Atobe conversationally replied. "And it's more like the other way around, isn't it?"

"I'm quite certain I don't like the implications of that last remark." Tezuka's plate was placed in front of him, but he made no move to eat.

"It's like you and Fuji are separated, and Echizen was just something you did to pass the time."

Tezuka didn't even dignify that with a response. Instead, he took a taste of the lunch Atobe was forcing him to eat, biting it almost violently.

Atobe looked at him thoughtfully, chewing another bite. "What's the point of this whole façade, Tezuka?"

"I don't know what you mean, Atobe," Tezuka replied with a sigh. He took a long drink of water, wondering when this conversation would be over. If it were anyone else, except maybe Fuji, he'd already have left. No one ignored Atobe when he didn't want to be, and Tezuka didn't put it past him to not order Kabaji to throw him over his shoulder and bring him back.

"Why are you even with Echizen? Why aren't you with that Fuji of yours? It doesn't make any sense, at least not for you."

"Fuji is just my friend," he stated once more, but he didn't classify how he viewed Echizen.

"That's all? Let me ask you this," Atobe said then, pausing a minute for effect, "How many times in the entire time you and Echizen were together did you have sex with him?"

Tezuka glared at him, frowning as he set down his fork. "That's none of your business."

"And how many times did you simply _want_ to have sex with Fuji while you were on this little trip?" Atobe asked, continuing as if Tezuka had said nothing at all.

Blushing despite himself, Tezuka looked down at his plate as he set down his fork. "What is this line of questioning in aide of?"

Atobe pressed on still, dismissing his question with a wave of his hand. "If Fuji wanted to, Tezuka, if Fuji stripped down to his bare skin, placed his arm around you, whispered all manner of dirty things in your ear, asking you, begging you, would you have slept with him during your trip?"

Tezuka looked up at Atobe, and was slightly surprised to not see that lecherous grin on his face, and instead a serious expression. They both knew Tezuka's answer, so he didn't bother to voice it. He took another sip of his drink, and set the glass heavily down on the table. This, Tezuka noted, was why he hated visiting Atobe, who saw everything, almost like Fuji, and said everything, which wasn't like Fuji at all, who preferred to make him squirm.

"If you want my advice," Atobe said, sounding as if it weren't possible for Tezuka to not want it, "You should let Echizen go, find Fuji and grovel on your knees for him to forgive you for being a complete ass to him all those years ago."

"An ass?" Tezuka asked, wondering just what Atobe knew about his past with Fuji.

Atobe raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, an ass. You and Fuji spent all of your spare time with each other during school, then after graduation, he went abroad for a few months, and came back to find you and Echizen living with each other."

"He no longer wanted to live with his father."

"You never stopped seeing Echizen as anything more than the twelve year old genius on your junior high tennis team, but you chose to live with him instead of waiting for Fuji."

Tezuka got to his feet. The way Atobe made it sound…it wasn't like that all, except that's probably what it seemed like to Fuji and, if he were honest, maybe Atobe wasn't that off after all. "Thank you for lunch, Atobe."

"It was enlightening, for both of us, I'm sure," Atobe replied, typical arrogance back in place. "Now, I need to deal with a crisis over at one of my magazines."

"What's the problem?"

"Oh, we feature poetry every month, but the latest submission was discovered to be plagiarised."

Tezuka debated for a moment, before pulling out the small pad of paper out of his pocket. "Don't laugh," he said, handing it over to Atobe.

Grinning widely, Atobe read through his writings. "These are good. I didn't know you wrote haikus."

"I wrote them today," Tezuka said, evasively. He shouldn't have shown them to Atobe, as insightful as he was, he'd likely see directly to the source of his inspiration.

"Good, I'll consider this payment for my assistance," Atobe remarked, paging through the notepad some more.

Tezuka shot Atobe an incredulous look. "Assistance?"

"When Fuji sees these and you spend the next eight hours on your back, or with him on his, you'll see what I mean."

"Atobe," Tezuka said, patience feeling the slightest bit worn. "Shut up."

Laughing, Atobe walked him to the door. He explained a few logistics about the magazine, thanked him for the poetry, and wished him luck. If he had any at all, Tezuka hoped that it meant that he wouldn't have to see Atobe for at least another six months.

When he got home, he picked up his phone, and dialed Fuji.

"Echizen left," he said by way of greeting when Fuji answered.

Fuji didn't say anything for a moment. "_Why are you telling me?_"

"I just thought you should know," he replied, lamely, not knowing what else to say, especially over the phone.

"_Should I be apologising?_" Fuji asked then, "_Or should I be expecting thanks?_"

"It's not your fault. Well, can we meet somewhere to talk?" Tezuka asked, knowing this conversation should be face to face.

"_Ah, I don't think that's for the best_," Fuji replied quietly, and hung up.

Tezuka felt like swearing, or throwing something. Even more than before, he felt like he had to see Fuji. To talk to him. To explain.

He knew what he had to do, but he absolutely hated having to do it. He picked up his phone, and dialed a number he'd seen a few times in the past few weeks, and waited for that irritating voice to answer.

"Tachibana," he said, hoping he sounded neither angry nor desperate, "give me Fuji's address."

"_Why should I?_" Tachibana asked, not sounding any more happy to speak to him than Tezuka was in calling him.

"I need to speak with him, in person," Tezuka replied, honestly. Lies wouldn't work on Tachibana, he knew.

Tachibana clucked his tongue. "_If Fuji wanted to see you, he'd have told you where he lived._"

"It didn't come up. It was an oversight," Tezuka said then. It wasn't a lie. It was more like an omission.

"_Fine. And by telling you this, I'm expecting that you won't fuck up again." _Tachibana gave him the address, threatened him once more for good measure, and bid him a terse goodbye.

He immediately made his way to Fuji's place, not wanting to delay the conversation that should have taken place over five years ago.

Fuji looked surprised, but only for a moment, when he opened the door and saw Tezuka standing there. "Tachibana, right? Well, come in."

Tezuka sat down next to Fuji on the couch, and felt immediately bereft of all the words he needed to say.

Taking pity on him, Fuji smiled, and asked, "So you and Echizen split up?"

He nodded, adding, "It was for the best. It wasn't…I wasn't fair to either of you."

"Fair to me," Fuji asked, "Didn't you say that it wasn't my fault?"

"It has been made patently clear to me by several people that our friendship isn't merely a friendship at all."

Smiling a little, Fuji cocked his head to the side. "This is how our friendship has always been."

Tezuka looked straight at Fuji then, placing his hand on Fuji's. "I'm aware."

"Are you, now?" Fuji didn't pull away, but he looked just the slightest bit exhausted with everything.

He pulled Fuji closer to him, letting Fuji lean on his shoulder. "Yes. You know me," Tezuka replied, not knowing how else to say what he wanted to without sounding trite or insincere.

Waking up, Tezuka felt slightly disoriented, especially when he realised that Fuji was no longer draped over him. He quickly found his glasses on the night stand, and put them on. It was still early, but he could be wrong. Fuji's curtains were dark, but a small, weak light had filtered through. His clothes were neatly folded on the dresser. he put them on, grateful that he didn't have to search for where they landed last night, and noticed a note attached to the mirror.

There was a key taped to the note, which simply stated, _Will be back soon. Fuji._

Tezuka, however, knew that soon in Fuji's mind wasn't counted in minutes or hours, necessarily. Instead, he had a feeling he knew exactly how long he'd be waiting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks for the reviews I will be replying to all of them shortly. I'm sorry for the long wait, but here it is Complete! When I uploaded this, I noticed my original author's note from when I first posted this on my livejournal. So, I thought I'd share that with you. **

**_A/N: Omg. I can't believe it's finally complete. This is my baby. My baby. hugs her fic I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Only, I hope you don't have nearly as many panic attacks as I did._**

Breakfast was waiting for him on the table when he went out to the kitchen. There was a bowl of miso soup, still steaming, and a cup of tea. He ate slowly, sparing a glance at the front door every other minute. A part of him was hoping, despite what he knew in his gut, that Fuji had just went to the store or out for an errand, so he stayed, writing for the better part of three hours before he acknowledged what he already knew to be true.

He didn't want to stay there longer than he already had. It was getting harder to not poke around, and explore. When Fuji came back, he could do it then, when Fuji could tease him for it, and not when it would feel too much like snooping.

It was shortly after one when he made his way back to his flat. However, as soon as he got there, he wanted to leave again. Tezuka quickly changed his clothes, grabbed his tennis bag, and turned to jog to one of his favourite gyms. He was filled with restless energy and muddled thoughts.

After lifting weights for an hour and a half, running on the treadmill for forty minutes, and using the ball machine for just under two hours, Tezuka was panting, sweating, feeling a warm ache in muscles, but he hadn't even begun to sort through everything going on in his mind.

He walked home, knowing that he needed to cool down his muscles, or he'd been in pain in the morning. He hesitated as he passed the place where he and Fuji played tennis, wondering if he went inside he'd find Fuji. A quick glance inside told him that Fuji wasn't there, but Tachibana was. Tezuka didn't even have enough words to describe how wrong an interaction between them would be that time, so he left before Tachibana noticed him.

When he got back to his house, he didn't even bother eating anything. Instead, he stripped, washed up, and tumbled into bed, feeling utterly exhausted by everything. It wasn't even yet eight. However, Tezuka soon learned that feeling exhausted didn't translate into sleep. Tossing and turning for the better part of four hours, desperately trying to sleep despite his body's insistence on staying awake proved to be the most frustrating part of the day.

Nothing was right, that much Tezuka knew. The bed felt wrong, the sheets too cold, the blanket too scratchy, and the room too stale. Tossing the blanket off him, Tezuka got out of bed with a disgruntled sigh. He threw on a pair of sweatpants, a tank top, and his worn trainers, grabbing his jacket as he walked out the door.

Thirty minutes later, he pushed the single, unattached key into the lock, and turned it. The flat was dark, but his body still remembered its way around the living room from when he was there the night before, then too occupied to watch where was going. He didn't even undress before crawled into Fuji's bed, falling asleep almost immediately, only taking a few seconds to acknowledge that _this_ bed had what his bed lacked. Fuji's scent.

The next seven days passed in much the same fashion. Tezuka would wake up in Fuji's bed, resist poking around the flat, write for a little while before leaving to go work out for four hours or longer, returning to his home only to toss and turn for hours before giving up and sleepily trekking back to Fuji's place only to fall asleep on his bed as soon as he lay on it.

Waking up, Tezuka rolled over onto the pillow that Fuji had used, inhaling, and wondered if he could put off changing the sheets one more day. It was that one ridiculous thought, however, that made Tezuka still just long enough to make a decision that he hadn't even allowed himself to consider in the days prior. He got out of bed, got dressed, and left.

Fuji's key was heavy in his pocket, his fingers playing with it as he walked home. Tezuka was frustrated, over-tired, and aching from too many too-long workouts. It took less than five hours to completely empty his house of all but furniture. It took seven trips to bring his clothes, sparse few personal items, and shoes to Fuji's place. The books took five trips alone, but he refused to leave them behind. He had no great attachment to the furniture and was willing to leave it with the building, letting whoever moved in next keep it.

Moving into Fuji's place was a bold move, but Tezuka chose to believe that Fuji wouldn't have left the key otherwise. He had a feeling that Fuji wouldn't have let him stay the night before if he wasn't at least willing to try. Plus, Tezuka argued to the small part of his mind that would not shut up, no matter what he said, he wrote better in Fuji's flat. In his own, he sat at his desk, stared at the pad of paper, and tapped his pencil against it until it broke.

Letting go of his other place was relatively easy. He texted Echizen a quick message, offering any of the furniture if he wanted it, before handing everything over to the landlord, who happily accepted the remaining pieces, since they were fairly expensive and in near perfect condition. Only three people were aware of where he was staying. Atobe, Echizen, and Tachibana. However, he wouldn't put it past Inui to know where he was, despite not having told him anything. Atobe knew because Echizen knew and Echizen knew because Tezuka had mentioned it when Echizen had asked where he was living since he decided to leave their former flat.

Tachibana knew because he came by one day to drop off some mail for Fuji, and saw him sitting on the couch in just his boxers working on some writing. Tezuka had been prepared for an argument, but Tachibana just took one look at him and started _laughing_, mumbled something that sounded strangely like _pathetic_ and left. Tezuka wanted to punch him in the face, only refraining for Fuji's sake…and possibly because Fuji would be upset with him if he did.

Locking the door, Tezuka left the flat to go to workout. He was feeling restless again, and needed to expend some energy before he resorted to pacing the floors.

"Tezuka-san?" A short, old woman called out to him, standing in the hall with a bright smile on her face.

He looked at her curiously, replying, "Yes?"

"Fuji-san contacted me earlier and told me that you'd be paying his rent this month," she said genially, watching him expectantly.

Tezuka tried his best to hide his shock, nodding in reply. "How much?" he asked, making a note to go to the bank after his workout.

She gave him a figure, which was rather modest for what Fuji was getting, especially since there was a bath in the house, but wasn't surprised, knowing how persuasive Fuji was. He agreed to have the money when he returned, bid her good day, and went to the gym.

It was so like Fuji to do that that Tezuka almost smiled. He bent down to tie his laces, again wondering if Fuji knew that he was still there due to _someone's_ inability to keep his nose where it belonged, or if Fuji just _knew_ the way he often did.

If Tezuka thought he wouldn't have to suffer anymore of Tachibana's presence once he realised Tezuka was staying at Fuji's, he was wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong.

Tachibana let himself in, tucking his own set of keys in his pocket. Tezuka glared at him, making a mental note to change the locks the next day.

"You're still here?" Tachibana asked, setting down two containers of take-out noodles. He handed one to Tezuka, who took it more from lack of another course than anything else. Tachibana sniggered at him, poking his chopsticks into his meal and grabbed two beers from another bag.

Tezuka didn't take the drink, and instead asked, "Why are _you_ here?"

"A favour to a friend," Tachibana said easily, before laughing, which sounded more derisive than anything.

Perking up a little, Tezuka ventured, "Fuji?"

"Everything always goes back to him with you." Tachibana got to his feet after a few minutes of eating in silence, setting down his half-empty container. "I need a favour from you."

"Which is?" Tezuka asked, not knowing if he was more hoping he could say no or if it would be embarrassing for Tachibana to ask. Either was a favourable outcome.

Tachibana had his hand on the doorknob. "Don't fuck up, asshole."

He was gone before Tezuka had a chance to stop him, or hit him, and he didn't know which he wanted to do more. He threw on his jacket, ran outside, and heard Tachibana talking on his phone as he got into his car.

"Come back and take pity on the bastard. He's like a lost puppy," Tachibana said, laughing. "Fine. Your choice, Syusuke."

And with that, Tachibana drove off, leaving Tezuka standing on the sidewalk, staring after him. Just as he was about to turn back inside, Tezuka's cell phone began to ring.

"Hello," Tezuka greeted, not wanting to talk to anyone, but forcing himself to be polite.

He almost cringed when he heard Atobe on the other line. "_Tezuka, send me more of your poetry._"

Tezuka was vaguely amused that Atobe didn't even bother asking, but then again, he used to do the same thing. "Why?"

"_People liked them, of course. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow afternoon._" Atobe ordered, leaving Tezuka to wonder what he'd done to deserve having Atobe be in his life in any capacity.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he repeated, wondering which poems he was willing to hand over to Atobe to make viewable to public.

Atobe scoffed a little. "_Yes, you are listening, Tezuka, aren't you? I'll even pay you this time._"

"How generous," Tezuka replied, flatly. He hung up before Atobe could come up with anything else that'd inevitably annoy him.

The holidays came and went, much to Tezuka's relief, and vague disappointment. He normally didn't celebrate it, but he knew Fuji did. He briefly entertained the notion that it'd be nice if Fuji's penchant for whimsy extended to coming home for Christmas, but it didn't. It was fine, really, the gift he'd bought wasn't that much, and might be something Fuji already had anyhow. It was worth it to Tezuka to not hear all the chirpy holiday cheer in the end.

Tachibana showed up again, and Tezuka was beginning to wonder if he was cursed. He even entertained the idea of visiting Fuji's sister briefly, but settled on the idea that he this was his penance, likely conspired by Fuji.

"What's this here?" Tachibana asked, snatching the notepad from his hand. Tezuka tried to get it back, but Tachibana was already on the other side of the room, laughing.

Tezuka crossed his arms across his chest. "Give that back, Tachibana, and then you can _leave_."

"Oh, Tezuka, there is something you're not good at, besides relationships," Tachibana said, snorting, as he flipped the page.

"Tachibana," he said in warning as he got to his feet. That wasn't something he would willingly share with anyone.

"Is this stick-figure with the two circles…oh, they're glasses, is that you?" Tachibana flipped another page. "And the one with the smile is Syusuke, right?"

"_Tachibana_," Tezuka repeated, holding out his hand. "Now."

Tachibana looked up at him, back down at the notepad, and back up at him again. "See you around, Tezuka."

And before Tezuka could move, Tachibana was already in his shoes and out the door.

Tezuka heard Tachibana's car start, speeding away. Glaring at the open door, Tezuka mumbled under his breath, "Asshole."

Looking down at the sea of his papers on the table, and the vague annoyance at Tachibana still nagging at him, Tezuka closed the door, shut off the lights, and went to bed. Tomorrow, Tezuka thought, had to be a better day.

It was another two weeks before he saw Tachibana again, this time at the gym. When asked to return the notepad, all Tachibana did was smirk at him, and walk in the other direction. Even if he still didn't have his notepad, Tachibana hadn't decided to bless Tezuka with his presence for very long, and that was a good thing.

As if on cue, his cell phone vibrated against his leg from its place in his pocket. He took one look at the number and almost decided not to answer it.

"Atobe," he said with a sigh. This call, he hoped, would be short.

"_It's good to hear from me, Tezuka,_" Atobe replied conversationally. "_A publisher of mine wants to meet with you._

Tezuka's eyebrows rose with interest, "Oh?"

"_Yeah, you have an appointment with them next week. Don't be late. I'll email you the details_," Atobe stated, sounding slightly amused. "_So, Fuji's still making you crawl?_"

He didn't even dignify that with a response, his thumb inching closer to the end button.

"_You don't want your knees to be too sore for when he decides to come back._"

Tezuka scowled, ending the call before Atobe irritated him even further. _He did not crawl._

"I have something for you," Tachibana said by way of greeting, shoving a large envelope into his hands.

Tezuka didn't even bother saying goodbye as Tachibana left, instead focusing on what he'd been given. Inside the envelope was homemade manga. Immediately, he recognised the art as Fuji's. Two pages in, he realised what he was reading. The notepad that Tachibana had stolen from him had two months worth of doodles and storyline. Fuji had taken the dialogue, and very rough drawings he'd made, and turned it into something good.

His lips curved slightly when he got to the end, and saw a small yellow sticky note attached to last page.

_Thank you for my Valentine's Day present. I hope you like your White Day gift.  
I assumed that you were holding a tennis racquet and not a balloon or lollipop, as they appeared to be. I wish my video of you drawing wasn't so fuzzy, but Tachibana refused to tape you again._

Sitting on the couch, he read through the last of his portfolio, making sure there were no typos or awkward phrasing. The publisher he met was a short, frumpy old man with less hair than teeth, but still someone Tezuka was immediately inclined to respect. He just had that aura.

The door turned, and he gritted his teeth. He was not in the mood tonight. As soon as the door opened, he said, without even looking up, "Whatever you want, it's a no."

"And if I said I wanted to have sex for the next five hours?"

Tezuka looked up in surprise. Fuji stood in the doorway with that smile on his face that indicated that meant every word he'd just spoken.

"I'd have to take it under advisement," Tezuka replied, getting to his feet.

Fuji cocked his head to the side, looking around the room that now had Tezuka's things everywhere, looking as if they belonged. "You made yourself at home."

"You arranged for me to pay rent," Tezuka retorted evenly.

"That I did," Fuji smiled a little as he spoke. "And is my request going to be approved?"

Tezuka turned, walking in the direction of the bedroom. "Consider it your welcome home present."

Laughing, Fuji followed after him, closing the bedroom door behind him.

_The end._


End file.
